The Mad Model has challenges with her skin from time to time. Yet she poses for me anyway, trusting me. This was one time where I swear, it looked like someone had cut off a pair of wings off of her back. And it seemed weird in that sense of good of the word, because in my life, she is certainly an angel. Muse. Inspiration.
And sometimes, even she feels grounded by the world. Life is heavy sometimes.
Sometimes we all ask where are our wings?
* * *
I actually nearly forgot it was. Brain's still stuck in Tuesday somewhere.
I've been clinging to my word count goals for NaNo. It's been more challenging and not this time around. Largely because only this morning I identified why I'm fighting it so hard.
I'm afraid of finishing.
This is the last book of the quadrilogy.
When it's done, it's done. And I'm not really sure I want to be done.
But it is what it is. Done is done.
I honestly don't know what I'll do next after I'm done with the entirety of the Enchanter's Theorem. I have several other novel ideas with assorted notes. But none of them are burning up the bandwidth to be written afterwards. Maybe the.childrens.crusade, but honestly, that story frightens me. It's a challenging concept and I truly don't know if I have the chops to tackle it after.
Doesn't mean I may not make the attempt. After all, fail early. Fail often. It's the only way to succeed.
And that's that. My brain's full. Today word count is burning up. So.
I won't knock it.
But I'll be sad when I type the end and Sabine's story is done.