Thrillfear

I had thought that once kids weren’t in elementary school anymore, their parents would begin to show a certain maturity. In the parking lot, to be specific, while dropping their kids off.

I don’t know why I thought that. After all, the times when I drive the Princess to high school, it’s just like the elementary school parking lot. People forget to use their turn signals, cut in line, make gestures, and almost run over kids in their haste to get their little darlings to the front of the line. This morning I was almost sideswiped by a Prius, of all things.

Sheesh. You’d think they would have learned to wait in line and be courteous in grade school. Guess not.

Anyway, today’s for fresh wordcount! There’s the second Gallow book to keep shoveling at–it wants to be written out of order, strange but not entirely unexpected when you’re writing about the Good People. And there’s also Rattlesnake Wind to write on, since it won’t get out of my head. It’ll never sell, but at least once I finish it my brain will be my own again. Then I can stick it in a drawer and let it moulder.

It’s weird to be writing something that isn’t to be released into the wild. Freeing, and a little scary. The fear is a thrill, like biting into fiery dark chocolate. While I have that, no amount of sideswiping Priuses (Priuii?) can disturb my good mood.

*shuffles off to write*

photo by:


mybulldog