Last night was a combination of writing and reading. I finished Gregory Maguire's A Lion Among Men. The man is a truly talented author. I really think the absolute best part of the book was the last few chapters. Funny how that happens. The book as a whole was good, but the last part bordered on shear genius. I can't wait for the next one, potentially the last according to an interview with him, in the series. He painted a stunning portrait of the Cowardly Lion. I'm just amazed at how he can take perceptions of familiar characters - the Wicked Witch of the West, Glinda the Good Witch, Dorothy, the Cowardly Lion, the Scarecrow - and totally reinvent those characters. I remember thinking after reading Wicked, damn, Glinda the Good Witch was an absolute bitch, Dorothy an airhead, and Elphaba, just purely misunderstood. It is just great that he can take familiar characters and infuse them with so much more literary life. I'm definitely going to have to reread Wicked, and probably its sequel Son of a Witch (I just love that title, btw).
I finished the revamp of Chapter Two as well last night. Okay, not really a revamp, just an added section - still, an additional 1800 words. Whoo-hoo!! At this point, I'm at around 35,000 words. Again, the word count will go up/down over the next week or so as I finish the reinvention of this literary wheel I'm working on right now. I keep telling myself it's all a process.
I long for the days when the words flowed so easily that they were an obsession. The words are flowing, don't get me wrong, but not near as strong as the project that I finally honed close enough to perfection to begin the agent search. Then again, each project is different. Things happen as they happen, and my frustration level only matters to me, and not the muses singing in my ears as I write. I just wish they'd sing in a language I could understand.