Thank you again for your past and present support of me, and of Clarion West.
This wasn't supposed to be late. In fact, it was ready to send just a day after my belated first week report. However, while I was writing this, the hard drive on my main computer decided that it was tired and had served long enough. Replacing and restoring everything took days which I could not spare. Luckily, it was easy. Just slow.
Having Neil Gaiman teach this week was such an eye-opening experience. I had something of a idea of the intensity of being rockstar writer from working with George R. R. Martin at the workshop last year, but since Neil was on book tour and doing a signing, I had the chance to see him interact with his fans. For hours. And hours. He is impressively there in the moment for the people who wait in long lines to have that brief time with him. He's there, and he's listening.
He's also the most charismatic and generous person I've been around in a while, and I was impressed to see how he uses those powers for good. He was also an impressive teacher, so the students had a great, if intense, week.
Again, chunks of time were rare, and my writing time was in bits, but because I had supporters and sponsors I made myself take advantage of those moments. Several members of last year's class were kind enough to give me comments on the first chapter of The Road Between, so I made some revisions, including lopping off a kind of prelude, which had been necessary in earlier drafts but because of other recent revisions no longer was. Buh-bye. Then some tightening and shaping followed.
I have a little more to go before I load it back up on my kindle app on my iPad to see it afresh and get back to the second draft of The Empty City.
This week's poem comes from me losing one of my favourite earrings, made by a jeweler from Orkney. The design is called the Finnish beast, and though I still have one, I really miss having the pair. Hope you like this beast.
Thank you again for supporting my writing--and for supporting Clarion West, which inspires so much of my writing.
The God of Lost Things
Is a small beast with a body of Celtic knots. Ears twitching
soft as a doe's.
Lively-eyed, narrow-eyed. His hunting nose is long and
wide, wide open.
If you want too see the rest of the poem, please let me know by contacting me or donating following the instructions at the top of this message.