It was gorgeous writing weather the whole long weekend, and I did nothing else, except sleeping a lot too. I mean, what else can you do when it’s raining non-stop? The muse decided that she wanted to work on “Beginnings” – the short story collection that’s haunting me for months. It has grown to over 5000 words by now, and it’s nowhere close to being done. Which brings me back to my conundrum of being my own designer too. It will need a cover sometime soon. Trying to marry Sci-Fi with Romance with Adventure is nothing but a headache. It either turns out horribly cheesy, or too cold. And I don’t like floating heads. Sometimes I’m tempted to make the covers black and just add glowing type. I eventually did register at Shutterstock, although I haven’t purchased any pictures yet. Trying to find pretty free stuff was too much of a bother in the end.
Speaking of free stuff, I finally made a chart to track the downloads of the short stories. I probably should have done this sooner, but as I never expected to get more than 5 downloads a piece, I didn’t bother. The numbers boggle my poor mind. 210 for the Christmas Story, and 204 for Summer Dreamin’ – really? Two-hundred people were interested in reading stuff I wrote? Fluffy (1) stuff even? This feels very, very surreal.
To find an end to my rambling, I leave you with an excerpt of “Beginnings” – mostly because I still giggle at Adelie and her opinion that the floor needed a hug.
“You should be in bed.” Adelie looked like death. Her usually rosy-pale skin had an ashen undertone and her eyes were glassy. She had wrapped a scarf up to her nose, but couldn’t hide the fact that she was shivering. “Baroness, you should go home and to bed. You are ill.” Nate watched her anxiously over the cafeteria table. She made a dismissive gesture.
“No really, it’s okay. I can’t miss Professor Alvarez’s class.” Just to demonstrate that she was alright, she stood up to return her tray. Only that she collapsed right after she got up.
“Holy hell, Adelie!” Nate jumped up so fast his chair tipped over and crashed to the floor. He didn’t bother. She was on her back, eyes open, and a weak smile on her lips as she recognised him. “The floor needed a hug.”
“That’s enough. To bed with you. Now.”
(1) I probably should also stop dismissing fluffy stuff as, well, fluffy. Apparently people want to read that. Or at least download it.