So here I am, sitting at the kitchen table, half waiting for my compost bucket to show up (I have a great view of the door it’s supposed to be left at in my apartment building), half noodling around on my laptop because after all, this is my day off. I’ve got a great re-read on my left (Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett’s Good Omens) and some great coffee to my right (tasty and gorgeously presented in the Peruvian coffee service my sister gave me at my graduation). The music on shuffle is peppy and wonderful and the Alpha Cat is feeling generous and therefore snuggly.

It’s possible that all is right in my world.

[And just now I paused to grab my keys and run through the airlock only to stand on the sidewalk and bellow, ‘Farmer Pirate!’ Behold, my compost bucket has arrived. :)]

But this is all prelude. The reason for the blogpost is really this – I’ve spent the week doing necessary and reasonably fun administrative tasks related to the Crazy Wonderful endeavor that Rachel and I are even now embarking upon. In the interim I’ve shocked both Rachel and myself with my capacity to be highly organized when I really want to be, though perhaps looking at my apartment this is not such a surprise. But now it comes to it – the story itself. The characters.

There is a massive amount that Rachel and I created together last weekend – and a massive amount that we also threw out. We did, after all, re-write the story eight times. (No really. Eight. We rewrote her story twice and mine eight times. In fifteen hours.) It is, for instance, no longer a straight up genre Romance. Partially because I realized that I had zero interest in writing one just at this particular moment.

What we ended up with is something of a hybrid – It could end up being a mystery-romance, or an action adventure-mystery with an extremely strong romantic subplot (I’m all about the romantic subplot), but even though the entire story is about one person coming to terms with what Love actually is, romance is a tiny part, perhaps even a diversionary part to the love that my personal theology points out we’re all supposed to be embodying in every moment.

And you know me – I can’t write with integrity if my own personal philosophy/theology is violated by the plot.

And so in some sense I know exactly what the story is. And in another sense I have no idea… I suppose I’m going to need to get my ducks in a row, set out another cup for coffee and wait for my main character to show up.

I’m interested in learning more about her. Her name, for instance…