I realized today how closely Love's Shadow and Winter's Light truly are. LS is really the darker side of the story, and WL the lighter, making the titles so perfect! I realized as I came closer today to ending the monstrous 332-page WL some truth about LS and added a paragraph onto the end of it. I scarcely think that will explain what I realized, but it's at least a start. The thing about my writing is-- whatever wicked thing I want happens. I knew Nichol shouldn't be with Luther because he's a serial killer... even within the confines of my story it can't happen, in that world. Nichol knows it can't, but still she loves him. And so I make the story carry on... and I wondered if perhaps the story was only half-written... and I needed to write a sequel. I think I do. Just as LS is the sequel to a story I wrote long ago-- and in this strange world my characters never quite find what they're looking for, so a sequel is always needed. WL is more boring in that way. Madeleine is the least wicked heroine I ever made-- and Luther is a more conventional villain, and his weird little peculiarity that showed up today is almost harmless. Really, his harmlessness is perhaps what keeps Madeleine's heart from stirring. I'm not sure. But writing... this is what I always wanted. This is the best way to live. I'm so glad this is my life.
And we ordered my dollfies!!!! OMG!!!! Bess and Hennessy will get a site soon, very soon!
I look out onto the yellow and brown vegetation beneath my window, at the castle-like buildings far away and wonder where do I lie in all of this? There was a time when I was unfettered. This was a time before I entered the working world, before I was independent. My heart was free as a bird when I was in college. I did not know what happiness I experienced in my creativity because I had never known different. In other aspects of my life I knew pain but my stories, sprung up lately from a gothic mist into an immersing Pre-Raphaelite painting, were a richness and the most beautiful thing I had ever known. That the most beautiful thing I knew to exist happened inside of me made me very happy, even though I didn't know it. Now I know the sun is setting, even though I can't see it, because the bank of brown, twisted trees and shrubs is lit gold, like a reflection from a golden chalice. Slowly, slowly it will fade until everything is a homogenous, uncertain gray. This is the nightma...