Life Imitates Art

In a fit of anger, I pushed a fictional character down a flight of stairs onto a flagstone floor in the lower barn where the sheep are. She was killed and her body was left where no one could identify her. You can read the results in “Sleeping with the Fish” in Fish Tales, a Guppy Anthology.

I am a visual writer so you can bet that the beds, clothing, stairs and fish nets in my stories are ones I have seen.

Yesterday I was carrying a section of metal fence, five bars with three uprights, not more than ten pounds, down the same stairs. I missed the bottom step and fell onto the flagstones, actually a cement apron, with the fence on top of me. Nothing broken but tore up some soft tissue in my foot.

So for the next few days I am forced into writers position, butt in chair, hands on keyboard.