The following was originally posted on my Not A Travel Writer sub-tumblr. As tumblr dies following its ridiculous self-destruction, I have decided to correlate all my previous posts, from several places, here. It makes sense and, crucially, means I own my content. In theory, it also means it cannot be removed by anyone else.
WIP 26.11.18 TKBabyBonus 868 Words
No words on Friday — we had a 16-month-old visit for the morning, followed by trying to locate cheap international flights for most of the afternoon. By dinner we were both surprisingly exhausted (playing is tiring!), so watched Guy Ritchie’s King Arthur and crashed. A wise choice — sometimes downtime, resting, pausing, recentering, whatever you call it, is necessary. On Saturday I felt invigorated, ready to go again.
I had two days mostly to myself this weekend, and I knew I needed to fill them with finishing my new website (or, more correctly, finishing it to a standard where I can release it into the world, with several bits “still to come…”), writing new words, exercise, and some concentrated paid work. In the former, I nearly succeeded, needing to finish only a small handful of tasks this morning to publish the site, in the others, I mostly failed, exercise excepted. I did manage to publish a post on drafting I’ve meant to edit for a while, so at least there was something here.
Yesterday (Sunday) I did some serious kettlebell and band work but, surprisingly, I do not feel too bad today.
This story has laid fallow for three days, which is frustrating in one sense, but I also knew I HAD to finish the website, it has been far too long since it should have been released. Today I returned to Flin and found her having one of the best nights of her life, only for that to begin to waver, ahead of The Terror… Also, a new character appeared, one who may play an important role in her own development. I do love it when such happens, when people walk out of my subconscious and say hello. It happens but, because I have a very good idea of the direction of my stories already, it happens less than it used to, when I would merely write with no idea of direction.
On Friday, the last day of Loi Krathong, some new neighbours moved into our Soi which, this being Thailand, meant monks blessing the home, which has had substantial alterations and renovations. It also meant the family going from house to house, bringing food to share, something that I love — we may be Farang, may be different, but we are welcomed, accepted as a part of the Soi community, nonetheless. There’s an important lesson here.