Well that was different.
I started writing The Trouble With Memories in 2011. I submitted the first little bit of it to the writer’s group and got some feedback.
Late last year – or was it earlier this year? – I wrote a bit more, submitted that, got feedback, and shoved it back in the electronic file drawer. Basically I had no idea where I was going with it or what I wanted to do with it. But I did have a cover:
Isn’t it cool? See, I originally was going to self-publish it. Now I’m not. I’m going to submit it next week, after the writer’s group takes its potshot at it one final time. (Hopefully they like it this time).
And originally it was a space opera about the good Captain Sykes and his troubles with the Mars Mission. It still is, but now Lucy gets a bigger role too – she ends up half Martian! (Hint: that’s where the double orgasms come in!)
And then there’s the second novella. Yep, Fennik wants his own story, which may require a third book, and a super-evolved as-yet-to-be-imagined race it’s hard to say at this point. But yes, Fennik wants his own. Will Mallory? He might sneak up on me…
So the more things don’t do anything but sit in a virtual desk drawer, the more things change! That’s the moral of that story.
Or… the writer gets better at editing. But that’s much less exciting, don’t you think? Here’s your Six Sentence Sunday:
“Honey, nobody can control you. I’d like to see them try.”
She snorted and leaned back. Little by little she undid the zipper on her suit and watched Cal’s eyes for a reaction. To be honest, she hadn’t had time to explore the changes in her own body either. She’d have to rely on Cal’s assessment to form her initial opinion.
His eyes went wide; his nostrils flaring. He arched his hips up, pressing his manhood harder against her damp sheath. Fragg, he wanted in there, to be a part of her once more. “Holy shit, you’re beautiful.”