It has been a week of adulting and learning new things, and making plans, and spending a fortune on pharmaceutical produce because it’s the season for propping up the body’s defences against whatever lurks in the air. All in all, I’ve had worse.
Something horrible or stress
I had a scare this week when I stood on my bathroom scales and saw I’d lost two kilos and change since June. I’m on the scrawny side already so 2 kg is kind of a lot to shed. Obviously, my first thought was that I was sick with something horrible.
A quick — but relatively thorough — Google search confirmed my suspicions. I self-diagnosed with three horrible illnesses and shortlisted another three. The problem with my self-diagnosis was that I lacked any other symptoms but the weight loss. So I opened a beer and got thinking, for a change.
Since June, I’ve had to deal with actual people in actual offices to finalise the design of a new kitchen, vaccinate and microchip a cat, travel with the cat in the August heat to Romania and back, arrange for the delivery of the kitchen, get a scare it might not all arrive at once, then worry about any glitches with the assembly, then go back to the city, buy a car, register it, have the kid catch the sniffles on day three of school, and then drive her there and back for a week. In Sofia traffic.
After I threw out my previous self-diagnoses I made a cake, put my feet up and started binge-watching The Killing for the umpteenth time. I’m now up by half a kilo because I also started eating again. It’s easy for something as minor as snacking to slip your mind when you’re thinking about whether you’ll find a parking spot in front of the school or have to go round and round until the kid comes out.
Where the hell is Peter
I’m currently writing the second part of what I think will be a trilogy and I had my male lead disappear. I knew he had to disappear, for dramatic purposes, but I had no idea where he’ll go and why. It’s really annoying when the writer brain says “Do this, trust me it will be great” and then, when you ask “But how do I motivate this great thing?” the brain’s number is busy.
What made the problem of Peter’s disappearance worse was that in this book I’m juggling three subplots and let me tell you it’s no easy feat. It’s great fun and I can’t wait to reach the amazing finale but easy is the one thing this is not. Not that I’m complaining, of course. Easy is boring. And having read tons of vampire literature, I had help.
When a vampire disappears it is either to feed, avoid feeding on his or her nearest and dearest or to pursue a higher purpose such as saving the world from some horrible villain. Yes, I combined all three into one and no, it’s not as ghastly as it sounds. I may be many things but blunt is not one of them, at least in writing. In life, I’m becoming blunter with each passing year.
To add dramatic tension, I had Peter pay a visit to his nearest and dearest only to leave her superfrustrated because he didn’t tell her where he was going, letting on just that it was extremely grave and serious. I think he’ll be away for most of the rest of the book. The matter he is dealing with is indeed extremely grave and serious.
As always, welcome to book-peddling corner. Fun fact: male readers seem to enjoy my stories as much as female ones. No idea how I did that.
For a thriller wrapped in a dream made of smoke, death and destruction, with a filling of tragedy and atonement sprinkled with drama and served with a side of a relatable villain, press The Dreamer.
For random scary stories, here’s a complete list of my published shorter fiction.