Soon I will embark on Homing: The Movie Treatment take two. Notes are beginning to come back to me from those who know more than me (hell, you probably know more than me, why don’t you send me some notes, too?) Over the last twenty four hours, I’ve been presented with a number of questions about the story-as-a-movie (so very, very different from the story-as-a-novel. Oh, so different), and my mind is busy chewing those questions and forming them into answers. I am cautiously optimistic about the likelihood I will knock it out of the park on my next go-round. I would very much like to do so because then I think there’ll be a certain amount of time in which nothing further will be required of me, and I can think about Fallsy Downsies some more.

Because the winter is approaching and there is nothing like winter for getting novels written. Ideally, I should live up north where it is dark twenty hours a day. That way, I could turn in for the day around 7pm, sleep till about 4am, write for four hours in the quiet dark and bang out a novel a year. Ha ha, like that’d happen. I’d be the executive director of the local lantern festival by the end of my first week, and would spend all my spare time strewing twinkle lights ahead of me wherever I went.

Till now, Fallsy Downsies has wanted to be written in loud public places. But I am feeling the pull, as the days shorten and crispen, toward early morning hours of quiet, just me and my head and the stillness of the house, spinning sentences into paragraphs and paragraphs into pages, and pages into a bound item you can hold in your hands and enjoy. Christ, if I could outsource the writing of it, I surely would. I think I am going to require a mini-retreat, during which I get fifty pages done. Yes please, and soon.