The Antlered Girl is on the back-burner for now, until I’ve gotten a complete first draft of a business fiction novel I’m ghostwriting. Nanowrimo 2019 was a bust for getting that done – so much real-life llama-drama happening, as it does, in November, that writing had to take a backseat to Annoying Things, such as replacing our carpeting and mitigating the underyling floor damage upon the discovery that the previous owners of our home had pretty much let their dog carry on its business wherever it pleased.
At last, however, we can finally unpack, almost two months after moving in. yay.
With the hustle and bustle of Giving-Thanks Day, and early Winter-Holiday-Of-Your-Choice prezzie-shopping out of the way (I’m totally in favor of supporting Small Business Saturday – so many talented local makers!), I can at last turn my attention to the business book. What’s that one about? Well, imagine trying to convert dry, dull business lectures into a lively and humorous tale that people will want to actually read. Hopefully non-business people, too. 😀
The lecturer who requested my help with this project actually has a pretty large following world-wide, and there are many who sing his praises, as his lectures have capably taught them the advanced concepts they needed to create positive change in their own businesses. He’s a nice fellow and a decent human being, he loves helping others with his skills and experience, and I’m happy to help him out like this.
It’s just that there’s a staggering lack of spaceships, faerie forests or anthropomorphic furry critters involved here. I do, however, get to (fictionally) shoot stuff out of a real cannon, so there’s that at least. 😀
Anyhoo, as I was unpacking, I found my magnetic poetry board and tiles and was noodling around on that, instead of productively putting stuff away. I figured that since I needed something semi-interesting (imho) to be posting about to start generating interest in the books that are being worked up to publishing speed, I could post my…etchings. This also gives me a reasonably good excuse to continue noodling around with my magnetic poetry.
We wonder about my silly dream together,
And remember the lovely, laughing rose monkey who dances under my bed.