Best Laid Plans

I had big plans for December. Redo the Metamorphosis Press website. Make new covers and ebooks for an old collection of stories. And write three, 3,000 words or less stories. A couple of them fantasy, to fill out and unpublished collection of short stories.

So, I began the first short story. Taking my inspiration from a photo and a killer title. Note, I never, ever come up with killer titles. Well, hardly ever.

I sat down to write, creating a fascinating world, with interesting characters who just happened to live on another planet. In space. And there was clearly some sort of governmental structure between the planets. The back of my brain kept saying, this is a science fiction story.

A science fiction story about a fortune teller. A Psychic with a capital P.

Okay, well, maybe I can work that in, I thought.

Then, this character had the audacity to predict an invasion by another planet whose culture was oppressive, militaristic and not kind to those unlike them. The story turned about sixty shades darker at that point. My character was scrambling to survive and I was already far past 3,000 words.

Now every time I’ve sat down to write this story for the past two weeks, I get stuck. I don’t want to write about politics.

I’ve spent the last few months avoiding politics whenever I could. My Facebook news feed has filled with it, instead of with the little things happening in people’s lives. I hate politics, even though I realized long ago everything is political from the choices we make in what food to eat, to the clothes we buy or the books we read. I’ve always tried to live my politics.

But I’m feeling done. Just done with it all. And I don’t know when I’ll be finished being done. I’ve lived through eleven presidents, voted at least ten times. In all those times I voted, maybe twice has my candidate been elected. I’ve tended to either vote for independent parties, or my candidates simply lost.

So, to say I’m gutted about this last election is an understatement. I feel hopeless about our political system. I know, we live in a democracy. Except it’s currently being ruled by those with the largest amounts of cash to buy influence, lobbyists and avoid paying their fair share, all the while taking as much of the resources as they can get away with. Not that much different from monarchies, eh?

Anyway, this post has gone sideways. The point I was trying to make was, my fantasy story has likewise gone sideways. Into science fantasy, (which I’m told readers hate) and political drama, plus it’s not going to be a short, short story.

It’s also one I don’t want to write at the moment.

For the past ten years, I’ve focused on finishing stories that I began. I’ve also allowed myself to write whatever I want to write at the time, as long as I finished it. Whether I think there’s a reader for it or not. That keeps my writer happy.

So, this story’s going to sit in its file for a while, or possibly forever. And I’m going to go off and write something fun. Or possibly completely silly. Because I just can’t face politics right now.

I hope you all go off and enjoy the winter holidays too. I can hardly wait for the light to return.



2 thoughts on “Best Laid Plans”

  • One has a slightly better chance of sharping their own life then the landscape of politics.
    I like where you’re coming from and I like where you’re going. Fun is an admirable goal; not only for one’s self, but the whole world. I ask you, what’s going to save humanity: more fun or more politics?

    • I’d like to think that fun would same the world, but then I also thought that the election would turn out differently. I didn’t think we’d put someone in the white house who makes me want to spit out derogatory curse words just to describe him. I thought that looking at the positive parts of life and enhancing them was the way to go. I’ve always hated acting out of fear, but apparently enough of my fellow Americans feel very differently.
      Doesn’t bode well for the future.
      I’ll do my part and continue to write what’s fun for me though. There’s no other alternative, really. The writer inside me simply refuses to do otherwise.

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