when words fail me

I haven't been working on la rêverie project lately. It took a turn for the steampunk, which gave it more definition and form, but an uptick in work (bulldozing our way towards two site launches within a week) makes it a hard to come home with that focus and determination.

Instead, I'll try another approach. In August 2017, faced with boredom at an under-stimulating job and a wasted imagination, I began writing a story called Cassandra's Curse that told the story of an ordinary person who becomes the inheritor of a gift (or curse)—she can see the future but no one believes her. And with little else to do, it went somewhere. Somehow.

My thinking is that maybe I should take a break from feeling out la rêverie and try to indulge and dive deeper into rewriting for draft 2 of Cassandra's Curse (or whatever it ends up being called). Looking at something else. Originally, I had conceived of the idea not of Cassandra but of Persephone, and inheriting the role of guarding the barrier between life and death.

I've never done a rewrite/draft 2 before. That is uncharted territory in and of itself but at least I know where it's going, so I can write with direction.


That seems to be my problem in writing and in music and in work. I lack direction. I go wherever at no pace in particular because why not? Even the goal is to publish and hold in my hand, to write and write and write stories that I can share with the world and complete because I decided on it. And that's vague enough that I can wander in any direction to hit it.

I've been reading a little more though and trying to reel in my anxiety so that I can at least sleep and dream about it, keep the creativity flowing at night. Anyway, that's where my brain is lately. A rambling of what in the fuck.