Dead. Line.

Super Secret Clubhouse of the Subconcious Mind

I’m working on a project. That is to say, I would be working on a project if I would just sit down and start writing it instead of fiddling out all the details during the regular parts of life-life, know what I mean?

It’s a super secret project with a super secret name and a super secret club house and everything.

And it has a deadline. A big deadline, if your me and you haven’t even started writing the thing yet.

And then there’s the thing where I’m being all racky-tacky mean to myself and doubting I can even write 10,000 coherent words in a readable story by the time Halloween comes tippy-tapping at my door and I have to go walking down the streets of Small Town America with two heartbreakingly adorable little girls in store bought costumes because Mama was too busy tossing words across a page like Jackson Pollock on a caffeine binge to make the costumes they really wanted.

Poor kids.

I don’t even want to talk about the memoir. (The What-oir? The memoir, or have you forgotten? Geez, Self.)

So what I’m trying to say here is that I’m on kind of a spazz break. I’m not taking off on Throw Me Thursdays because they’re the only reason anyone opens my junk mail anymore, but I have to chill on blog posts until I get a real story worked out. I’m even leaving the essay I wrote about going back home to simmer a while on the back burner.

It means too much to toss out prematurely for rejection.

If you’re really hankering for something to chew on, you should check out  Atoll Annie and the Non-Specific Rim. She’s incredible and has never disappointed me, though, I could have done without that port-o-potty hiding guy. Yeah.

Oh, and by the way, my baby is going to be turning 5 in exactly 2 months from today. It’s a little intense, know what I mean?

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About E. Victoria Flynn

E. Victoria Flynn is a mother and a writer living in Southern Wisconsin. Published in a variety of venues, Victoria is currently writing the first in a series of three fantasy novels based on Cornish folklore. When not taking part in a shrieking dance party or engrossed in her own little fictions, Victoria is keen on art, the natural world and people unafraid to explore their own brilliance.
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7 Responses to Dead. Line.

  1. Sounds like your writer-self is having a bit of a manic/panic attack. I send you peace, deep breaths, focus, and determination. You CAN do this. Don’t let your Evil Editor get the best of you. I believe in you!!!

  2. kario says:

    Oy. Go easy on yourself and let it happen as it happens. You are a beautiful, exciting writer and your words will find a way out.

  3. Lisa says:

    My favorite line: “because Mama was too busy tossing words across a page like Jackson Pollock on a caffeine binge to make the costumes they really wanted.”

    Your ease and skill with words continue to amaze and inspire me, Victoria. I have no doubt at all that the days (and years) ahead will be filled with important discoveries and words, words, and more words. Go, go, go!

  4. Super secret blog post only for those inquisitive eyes 😉

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