For the last week, I’ve been trying to write a section of fiction that has been steadfastly eluding me. In fact, I’ve had nightmares, and moments of pure unadulterated rage because the description just wouldn’t come. Finally, blissfully, IT IS DONE. The thing’s not complete, far from it, but the basic foundations are now in place. It might end up being finally decorated and finished, but this is the plan and the direction, and I never want to go to Venice ever. I don’t care how beautiful and romantic this city might be, NO. JUST NO.
Next up? Northern Italy, which actually is likely to be FAR less stressful, as most of it is actually written and only needs to be strung together… except there’s some porn to write with a rather interesting twist.
Excuse me while I go and lie somewhere dark for a while.