As I was writing on the novel, which often feels like slogging through mud, I received inspiration for a new story, which I began working on.
So, I wrote very little today on The Novel, but I wrote 10 pages (4,150 words) on the new story, "Domestic Drama."
I will post a bit, the inspiration for the story, here. I feel like the inspiration was just in time, as I was beginning to feel, because of the slogging, that I am not much of a writer. But the new story was fun. Which leads me to question why the novel isn't. But I've always loved brevity, so there's that. And doing something new always has its appeal too, doesn't it?
I hope to get back to the novel later tonight, or tomorrow. And to finish this story for my writing group at the end of the month.
So here's the first paragraph, which came to me in a burst of inspiration. Thank you, to wherever it came from.
He found me in the bedroom. I had the butcher knife and I was holding it in my right hand and with my left I was looking through a pile of clean laundry I had left on the bed. I was looking for a red handkerchief which I had given him for his last birthday and which would make a good tool for wiping up blood, but that was not why I was looking for it. I was looking for it because it had just sprung to my mind as I was deboning the chops for dinner. I hadn’t seen it in months and I thought that maybe it was missing or, I thought, maybe it was in the pile of clean clothes on the bed. That was the only place it could be.