Nearing the end of any novel there’s a point where all that matters is writing that novel. Blogging, tweeting, cleaning house, preparing meals, even eating meals all become unimportant. I’d be ashamed of the amount of takeout food I’ve eaten or how much I’ve neglected my housekeeping, but I’m too damn proud of how this manuscript is coming together for that.
The manuscript is about a teenage mermaid hunting down a serial killer who happens to be a sea monster, while having sex for the first time with another supernatural sea creature. So I’ve got the ocean and mermaids on the mind. As someone who swims rather often (fitness swimming, not having fun in the pool swimming) I’m amazed I’ve never stumbled onto mermaid tails before. Now I want one.
A while back (before the mermaid knew who the killer was but way after her love life got hot and heavy) I went to a quilt show. Despite quilting for 20 years, I’d never been to one outside of the county fair. I was more than stunned by the level of artistry. Quilting is a wonderfully woman centric art form. I’m glad that I’m giving it more time in my life. This quilt is my new wallpaper. The skulls juxtaposed with the bright colors just slay me.
