Beginnings

Beginnings are easy. Hand your character a gun and a mysterious envelope and you know your going to be in for a wild ride. Sit them with another character for tea and drop an interesting and mysterious comment and it's time for a lazy afternoon read. This is the way of writing for me. Much like life beginning is easy (well once you get past all that unpleasantness with the dark tunnel and the bright light and "Hey put me dow...OUCH!")

The problem has always been that somewhere in the middle where life happens everything takes over. In writing as in life event after event take place each one with consequences and things begin to spiral ever outwards until I no longer have any idea how it could ever end. It's true. I was recently speaking with an elderly gentleman and he had no intentions of having things end any time soon. Do you? Do I? And so my characters have begun to mock me. Seeing as my life has no conclusion my characters like wise have found that they also are in a state of limbo.

This has begun to cause serious problems for me as they have taken up what appears to be rather permanent residence somewhere in the back of my mind. The other day as I was sitting in a meeting I very distinctly heard the over weight adulterous salesman, from what we shall call story A, have a very passionate discussion with the murder mystery solving nun, from story B, about the appropriate length for bed curtains. The Nun of course felt that the only proper length for a bed curtain is the length that allows the hem of the curtain to lightly brush the floor boards while the salesman preferred curtains short enough to show off the rooms finer features. I was in fact expecting them to come to blows over the issue when their conversation was drowned out by one of my coworkers asking my opinion on our latest project.

By the time I was able to manipulate my way through the meeting discussion the salesman and the nun had agreed to part company and go back to their respective plot structures leaving me sitting with the narcissistic depressed teenager whom I hadn't noticed watching in all of the commotion. To say that things are becoming a bit unsettling would be a kin to calling the mental institution a nice place to meet interesting people.

And so it is with great pride and much hope that I provide this beginning for my new blog. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing.

Lumpy