These past few weeks I fell into a perpetual state of bleeerrrggghhhh-ness. I’d published Our Intrepid Heroine and was awaiting the proof of my new historical-non-magical-fantasy to arrive, with other factors included, I simply wasn’t able to write.
I could stare at my newest project – I stare quite admirably, though I do say so myself – but the words didn’t come.
I did write something; a handful of words in a story that dawned upon me and doesn’t have much of a plot at the moment:
“Mr Browning couldn’t have murdered Miss Redon.” The statement was said with a great deal of force.
There was a silence.
Mrs Haddington, biscuit still held daintily between pale white fingers, directed her forceful gaze at the newspaper. Or rather, at the head behind the newspaper. The tawny head of her husband slowly reemerged as the newspaper was lowered. He met his wife’s eyes reluctantly.
“My dear,” he said. “Whatever could you mean?”
“He adored Harrison’s Biscuits!” The pronouncement was quite triumphant. “And if he adored Harrison’s Biscuits then it stands to reason that he could not have committed the murder. I wonder why the police didn’t notice such an obvious fact.”
As you can see, I have a promising career as a crime writer.
But the no-good, horrid and despicably slithering state of bleeerrrggghhhh still persisted. I’m afraid that this isn’t a post about a triumphant moment of clarity or a victorious second of truth. No. This post is simply a reminder to you that the state of bleeerrrggghhhh does not persist forever and does eventually lift.
I’m not quite sure why or how it did.
Perhaps it was the fact that I popped my hair in a pony tail and looked studious with a pair of glasses perched on my nose. (One does feel so much better and more industrious with one’s mane out of the way.) But then that wouldn’t help if you have short hair.
But, no matter, take courage and have hope – Blergh-ness doesn’t last forever.
Have a great day!