Finally my muse decided to co-operate.
You know, I kind of envy those writers who get an idea, flesh it out, work with it, plan out a story, and write it. All sequential-like. Me? I get an idea, write a bit of it, get another idea, write a bit of that, get yet another idea and write a bit of it, then go back to the second and write a bit more, then get another idea, and – GAHHHH! Mind you, I can see that this might be a little frustrating for my readers, too. Because my readers get the stories in the same order I do – chaotic. They’re waiting to hear what the hell happened to Pete, and I’m offering them a story about completely different people in a totally different place and time. That’s gotta be irritating.
So if I’ve been irritating the hell out of you with my fiction, I apologise profusely. It’s just that my muse dislikes being pushed along any particular path – she’s a stubborn wench (like me) and utterly capricious.
On the bright side, I’ve had some luck cajoling her, in the last week or two. LO! and BEHOLD! – two stories on the same topic. Pete and Wendy are back – Pete’s stuck in hospital with a gorgeous police officer making him drown in his own drool, and Wendy’s trying to find out what the hell happened to him.
Check them out –
Hospital
Streets of a Dirty City
By the way – if anyone can tell me where on earth I lifted that last story title from, I’d really appreciate it. Because it’s bugging me. I know I’ve nicked it from somewhere – maybe modified it a little – because my brain itches whenever I read the title. But my luverly brain won’t tell me where it’s from. I’d google it, but I’m not in the mood for porn galore. Little help?
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