I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Sunday, September 2, 2007

Rewrite Report

Daddy's Little Girl is now thirteen and we're up to 2293 words. We're about to jump to 16 and our narrator's break down which I've been asked to give specifics and describe. I think this is the point where he starts to resent his keeping the facade going. That the "normal" part of him rebels and tries to get him to get help. The other side wins in the end, and he keeps up with believing his daughter is talking to him. So, that's pretty heavy, and I've done a lot already. Tomorrow we'll tackle this. And then we'll plow to the end, which I need to either make the breakdown the climatic seen, or his letting his daughter go the climax (just penned it out on the hard copy, it's a sickness I tell ya).

Time for bed and maybe a little Neil Gaiman before sleep.

2 comments:

Camille Alexa said...

Fragile Things?

Steve Buchheit said...

That's the one. Last night was two poems and a short story called, "How do I feel" or something like that.