…and blood, of course.
This week I finished writing a complex fantasy/horror piece called Bleeding Outside the Lines. It’s a story that’s been on my books for – quite literally – fifteen years.That is sometimes how it goes with me: I get an idea, write a few words, and then something else takes my fancy, and I forget about it for a while…. or a decade.
Not the same with women; just stories.
In that time it has gone through several name changes and even threatened never to see the light of day. It was supposed to come in under 5000 words (because this is the upper limit for most publications), and then – when that ship well and truly sailed – it was supposed to be no more than 10,000 (because by then, the potential publication list is really thin) but I waved goodbye to that as well round about the start of Act Three.
But a writer should always stay true to the story: it’s as long as it needs to be. Nothing else really matters. So, I finally put Bleeding Outside the Lines to bed after 12,500 words, most of which are pretty good. And yes, it’s in that murky-grey place called Novelette, where nobody wants to visit, and sounds a lot fluffier than it actually is.
I will begin searching for a home shortly, but right now… I need a break.