Yesterday, I wrote 1,289 words and finished the story that I'm presently calling "In View of Nothing" (total word count: 8,243). It's as close as I can ever imagine coming to a literal transcription of the "white-room dreams." However, there is a bit more "story" here than in the dreams themselves, my conscious mind futilely trying to tie disparate bits together or fill in blank spaces on the map. But it's much, much closer than "A Season of Broken Dolls." I'm unsure how I feel about having done it, having written the dream out this way. Certainly, it's one of the most personal stories I've ever written. There is a lingering sense that I have failed to capture the bleak atmosphere of the dreams. Anyway, it will be there in Sirenia Digest #16.
Today, I need to begin the second, shorter piece for #16, and my deadline for the Locus article is the 15th. I have no idea what the Locus article will be. The issue is horror-themed, and as I do not consider myself a genre "horror" writer, well, I'm not sure what I will say. Perhaps I'll write about the importance of maintaining mystery and a sense of the inexplicable at a story's conclusion, as opposed to tidy endings and resolutions. At least, that's how it works from my perspective.
Today is my mother's 63rd birthday, which is just all sorts of weird.
I would rather do almost anything than write today.