Just Literature Thoughts

I don't feel like writing again.

Well, I do, but I don't feel like making sense. In other words, I want to write for Michael the Traveler, but I got him stuck on an island, and the plot seems too sticky. I don't know why I keep trying to turn him into something sensible. Nobody needs that kind of shenanigan. I like that he has a sensible core, an approachable theme, but I never wanted him to abide by the laws of physics or logic or any such gobbledegook.

Do you ever type a words expecting the autocorrect red-line to show up, but, when it doesn't, you doubt that you could actually have spelled it correctly? That just happened with gobbledegook.

Poor Michael: he's just a wandering boy with no convictions. The worlds surge around him as he struggles just to keep up — barely.

Don't ask me about Meadowvale, but I have been jotting down charming thoughts for my elementals. They become realer and realer; I want to meet them. I mean that quite literally: I'm fashioning the different facets of my elementals after different people or cultures or customs—but I sometimes only have faint glimpses of these cultures in my mind, and I need to get to know them so I can know my elementals.

Don't ask about Meadowvale. It needs a whole new beginning, maybe one of those preface/foreword thingies. It's definitely going to have an appendix or two in the back, which will definitely include the lizards. I kind of like the discomfort their names cause, but I want readers to be able to keep track of them somehow. I should also learn how to draw. I'd like to draw the characters if only for my own sake, if only to understand them better. I also need to write little bios for each of the characters.

I might have a new student, but he's pretty far away. We shall see.

In any case, I'm going to try and pull Michael out of his boring rut.

Pip pip, cheerio.

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