That’s right. I got stuck on C&C, although when I’m not floating around in dirigibles and making up stories about gigantic serpents, I’ve come up with an idea or two to get me around the part where I’m stuck.
But what I really, really want to talk about is the newest WIP. Eight thousand words. In three days (oh, you knew I had it me, I mean I did win at Nano). Guess what? It’s the steampunk. Yes, the steampunk I’ve been blabbering about for a couple of months.
It has a delightfully fiesty heroine named Romy, Abel an American cowboy and of course, a giant, mythical serpent called Wagyl. She was called this by the aborigines (you guessed it, Australia) in Western Australia. Romy and Abel are in a race against time–though I won’t tell you why–to find the Soul of the Rainbow Serpent. I won’t tell you what it does either. I only want to get 20 out of it because I think I can wrap it up nicely in that amount. I had a really hard time getting it started, but once I did it’s been nothing but fun, fun, fun.
Right now Romy and Abel are soaring over the Australian desert in a dirigible called Ursula Ann piloted by a Dutch captain named Alwin van Buren. Know why I picked that name? Do you? Well, do you? Because the Dutch were the first Eureopeans to discover Australia. Brilliant, eh? I’m just having a lot of fun with this. That was my plan from the beginning. If only all stories could come this easy (hint, hint C&C).
I’m trying to distract myself because here it is end of March. I’ve waited impatiently for the end of winter (and what lovely weather we had today, considering it sleeted and snowed on Friday), but with it looms that terrible fear that I might lose my job. I realized today that one of the big companies we’ve always done a lot of work for hasn’t sent us any work in a long time. When I opened their file, there was only one piece of work in it. The date was from mid-January. (Insert appropriate awestruck swear word here.) Not good. Not good at all. My plans to become wealthy haven’t born any fruit yet. I expect you have to actually do something in order to get wealthy, it doesn’t just fall into your lap. Wouldn’t hurt to have some rich relatives–which I don’t. Mostly I think there should be some sort of opening for a good slacker. I’d be willing to work about 20 hours a week as long as I got paid for 40. If wishes were horses… we’d all be eating steak. You know, if we were into that. Personally I’d rather ride the horse than eat it. Mmm, beef.