Wipeout

Here is is already ten in the morning, and I have no writing to show for it.

Did I dream all my words away last night? I got a little overheated in my knit jammies and thick socks and three blankets, and got stuck in one of those bizarre dream cycles in which the cast of characters included everyone I'd ever known, dead or alive, all together again, whether they'd ever been together before or not.

Dialogue involving that many characters can use up a writer's daily word count pretty fast.

At night, I am Stephen King. Plagues wipe out whole states, or at least my family; enemies destroy barns and houses and churches and the football stadiums where all the believers are hiding. There are millions of ecoli-bed conversions, which is gratifying. And when the people I resent in real life are offed in my dreams, I don't feel too guilty about it.

There is no time for profound feelings in these dream sequences--the plot must go on. Real women don't grieve, they dig graves. In my wildest dreams, real women (which is to say, I) preserve the tiny spark of life that's left, knowing full well the rest of the entire earth is probably caput by now. It is I who must save my little family from the rampant destruction that is overtaking mankind, but not only that--I must also assume the arduous task of being matriarch of the whole world, and rebuilding it after its near extinction.

I awaken drenched in sweat from the effort. (And from the jammies and socks and three blankets, not to mention the space heater.)

After all that, is it any wonder I'm wordless?

Posted by Katy on 02/10/03 at 10:28 AM

Fallible Comments...

no wonder at all. except you just wrote about it all ;)
-----
Posted by lisa on 02/11/03 at 08:21 PM
Lisa, Yeah. That keeps happening!<br>Hey, why when I try to go to your site from here, it doesn't work? Please tell me what I'm doing wrong...
Posted by katy on 02/11/03 at 10:08 PM
katy, i have no idea. i just tried the link and it worked just fine. ??<br><br>its www.justadjust.blogspot.com ...if that helps.
Posted by lisa on 02/12/03 at 04:14 PM
I love your writing...you have a special talent. I envy that.
Posted by Hank on 05/20/03 at 09:56 AM

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Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	Wipeout Here is is already ten in the morning, and I have no writing to show for it. Did I dream all my words away last night? I got a little overheated in my knit jammies and thick socks and three blankets, and got stuck in one of those bizarre dream cycles in which the cast of characters included everyone I'd ever known, dead or alive, all together again, whether they'd ever been together before or not. Dialogue involving that many characters can use up a writer's daily word count pretty fast. At night, I am Stephen King. Plagues wipe out whole states, or at least my family; enemies destroy barns and houses and churches and the football stadiums where all the believers are hiding. There are millions of ecoli-bed conversions, which is gratifying. And when the people I resent in real life are offed in my dreams, I don't feel too guilty about it. There is no time for profound feelings in these dream sequences--the plot must go on. Real women don't grieve, they dig graves. In my wildest dreams, real women (which is to say, I) preserve the tiny spark of life that's left, knowing full well the rest of the entire earth is probably caput by now. It is I who must save my little family from the rampant destruction that is overtaking mankind, but not only that--I must also assume the arduous task of being matriarch of the whole world, and rebuilding it after its near extinction. I awaken drenched in sweat from the effort. (And from the jammies and socks and three blankets, not to mention the space heater.) After all that, is it any wonder I'm wordless? Posted by Katy on 02/10/03 at 10:28 AM Fallible Comments... no wonder at all. except you just wrote about it all ;) ----- Posted by lisa on 02/11/03 at 08:21 PM Lisa, Yeah. That keeps happening!<br>Hey, why when I try to go to your site from here, it doesn't work? Please tell me what I'm doing wrong... Posted by katy on 02/11/03 at 10:08 PM katy, i have no idea. i just tried the link and it worked just fine. ??<br><br>its www.justadjust.blogspot.com ...if that helps. Posted by lisa on 02/12/03 at 04:14 PM I love your writing...you have a special talent. I envy that. Posted by Hank on 05/20/03 at 09:56 AM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: Bowled Over Previous entry: Be Prepared << Back to main


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Personal blog of christianwriter & fallible momKaty McKenna Raymondin Kansas City, Missouri

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Wipeout

Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri