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Driving home the wrong way

I wish I worked east of where I live. The whole way home, I had a gorgeous sunset going on behind me, and I could only see glimpses of it through the rear view mirror. It was a sunset Raeith would've painted. He's been with me today. Even made me buy some shamanic chants on CD. He's still a beast that won't be easily wrangled, but I'm stuck with him.

It's almost hard writing him as the troubled soul he is at the beginning of the story, as the Raeith in my head has already been through it all and come out on the other side. I can only write from what he remembers, and from what I remember from when I was like him in some ways. That's why the story now becomes more about Patrick's point of view and his experience.

The story is still about the same ideas, but the way in which it needs to be told has changed. All things do in time, I suppose. I think I've reached a level in my writing in which I can just write, and worry about the rest of it later. When I find time to write, that is. I still would like to be able to do it full-time, so that I can finally get out of the soul-sucking jobs. But for now, all I can do is write.

I still owe you all some more Nyklcon reports. I suck. But I have 4 days off to work on that.

For those of you just joining us, you can read some about Raeith and Patrick at The Attic Window.

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