When I sit in a quiet space I tend to fall asleep. Whether I’ve had enough sleep or not. I usually have to exert force of will to stay awake. (Which is why I get so whiny on the odd occasions when I don’t instantly fall asleep. It’s odd and strange and therefore scary.) I can’t seem to write with others around. Too easily distracted. Sitting here in the dark on a Monday morning before anyone else has woken, I have my earbuds in listening to (at the moment) Annnie Lennox and when I started to write… I started thinking about Tomas and how he needs a friend and what kind of person would be interesting to pair him up with and blah blah blah. Except I need to figure out how to get Tomas either on the way again to the place of death or headed back home so that he can discover his home destroyed. And I don’t know how to get him from where he is now, having just met the flying people, in a manner that is at all true to who he is.
… today’s compaints brought to you by “trying to figure it out”