After a four day weekend away at a wedding with no time to write I received a gift. It's an odd gift with a real demon side. Hurricane Sandy is pounding up the eastern coastline and preparing to slam into the New Jersey and New York shorelines. Due to Sandy we have two days off from work. Of course it would be better if there wasn't a natural disaster at the helm of this unplanned vacation but here it is in my lap.

So far I have completed revisions on my flash fiction chapbook in preparations for submitting it to a contest next month. I'm also working on queries for my short story collection so I can send them to publishers. I'm going to target some small publishers and see how it goes.

Next it's back to my novel. I would love to finish a first draft before my retreat in three weeks so I can begin revisions, or put it away and turn to poetry and flash fiction again. I need the quick results of short forms. But at odd times the characters and plot lines of my novel come back to haunt me. I can't shake it. It clings to me like wet sand. Its grains rub and abrade until I respond. Go to the keyboard and get down a new chapter. So I am hoping there isn't too much storm damage and that everyone stays safe and dry. In the meantime I am using the next two days to drive some more tension into the story and get my characters up a tree as they say.

Here's to the gift of writing time. May the next present come with nicer weather.


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