I am teetering on the edge of a precipice.

Of course, literally, that might mean I’m standing at the top of a craggy cliff looking down at a bed of rocks.

One that would hurt a lot if I landed there.

But there are many ideas of what that precipice might be, metaphorically.

It might mean, in an argument, you’re about to say something you’ll regret or can’t take back.

It might mean you are one action away from turning your parent. or someone else, into a green-eyed monster, and do something you thought you’d never do.

Pushing them to the precipice.

It might mean you are one thought or idea away from solving a problem.

Like the title of your next book.

Or the formula to create a warp drive.

Or perhaps a simpler problem like where the money is coming from to pay next weeks bills.

My precipice?

The next plotline for my current NaNoWriMo project.

And, no, I’m not usually one of these writers who plan the whole novel before writing it.

But ideas like this, they just happen.

I usually write my stories in the same manner it would be for the reader, not knowing what will happen next, but it’s hard not to.

It’s cold and wet at the top of the cliff …

Damn!  Just had an idea.  Got to go.

Today I decided to take some time out and read a few blogs, to see what the rest of the world is doing leading up to CampNaNoWriMo, and sometimes read some news that’s usually a few days old, not that I’m complaining.

And still working on the James Bondish piece that set my mind on fire.  Last I heard, he has almost completed a successful, almost suicide, mission.  There’s just a small matter of a rebel helicopter with air-to-air missiles trying to shoot down the escape plane.

I try to keep away from the news if it’s possible, but it comes at you from everywhere.  My browser somehow decided to allow notifications and every few minutes a little popout slides out from the bottom right corner and tells me what’s gone wrong.

Never any good news by the way.

And yes, I have Windows 10, but I can’t be bothered reading the manual to find out how to stop them.  Maybe, subconsciously, I don’t.

I never thought one man could generate so many headlines.  We had one, given the nickname, the human headline, but Trump, he is in a class of his own.

I used to like watching him on The Apprentice, believe it or not.

But again I digress…

I saw the word selfish popup in a number of posts, and it reminded me that, at times writers have to be.  There are only so many hours in a day, and after emails, blogs, reading, news, life, there’s very little time left to write.

So, we need to be selfish at those times.  I am because when I sit down to write, there shouldn’t be any distractions.  As a writer, I’m not seeking popularity, maybe one day that will come, but I’m in this writing thing because I have stories to tell and I want to get them down.  Nobody may ever read them, I may never rise above mediocrity, but I am doing something I love, and very few of us out there can say that unequivocally.

Most of us have a day job or something else that consumes a great deal of our time.

Oh to be a successful author like James Patterson?  But how does he do it?  I guess it comes down to hard work, and a little bit of luck.

And maybe, one day, if I work hard enough, some of it might come my way.

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the second revision and release to beta readers.

…

The end or is it the beginning.

…

It’s always fun to get to the end of the story.

This one, at times almost wrote itself because the elements were such a joy to write.

It started in a dance, two people who knew deep down they were in love with each other, they just either didn’t want to acknowledge it or didn’t think it was possible the other would ever see it.

How many of us sometimes look wistfully at the one we love and know it will never happen?

I’ve been there, and I know that feeling.

And then, when it is recognised, in a mad moment of realisation, you go from not having it to having it and not wanting to mess it up or wanting it to end.

Love is one of those emotions that is very hard to understand, control, or manage, and as it is often said, the heart does what it wants to do and you sometimes have to go along for the ride.

And sometimes put yourself out there and be damned to the consequences.

It’s going to hurt, one way or another, and we can only hope it’s a good hurt and not a bad one.

But will it help to go from relatively poor to very, very rich?

That of course is another story.

…

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the second revision and release to beta readers.

…

The end or is it the beginning.

…

It’s always fun to get to the end of the story.

This one, at times almost wrote itself because the elements were such a joy to write.

It started in a dance, two people who knew deep down they were in love with each other, they just either didn’t want to acknowledge it or didn’t think it was possible the other would ever see it.

How many of us sometimes look wistfully at the one we love and know it will never happen?

I’ve been there, and I know that feeling.

And then, when it is recognised, in a mad moment of realisation, you go from not having it to having it and not wanting to mess it up or wanting it to end.

Love is one of those emotions that is very hard to understand, control, or manage, and as it is often said, the heart does what it wants to do and you sometimes have to go along for the ride.

And sometimes put yourself out there and be damned to the consequences.

It’s going to hurt, one way or another, and we can only hope it’s a good hurt and not a bad one.

But will it help to go from relatively poor to very, very rich?

That of course is another story.

…

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the second revision and release to beta readers.

…

Home again, home again…

…

After rescuing Tim and not fulfilling the mission, which might seem to become a running theme in the relationship between the grandmother and our boy, they arrive home, hitch a ride to New York in the corporate jet, and then dispatch it to Switzerland where Annie is booked into a clinic.

Good deed for the day done.

And in a last-minute move he didn’t see coming sister Darcy, best friends with everyone, has gone with Annie to be someone familiar.  Tim of course goes with her.  A ride to Europe in a private jet, and the prospect of a holiday was worth sacrificing being at the wedding.

Well, the first wedding.

But the bad news is, while our boy was away having fun in helicopters the grandmother’s condition deteriorated as anyone with stage four cancer knows.  One minute you’re reasonably OK the next, at death’s door.

Fresh off the plane, there’s just enough time to change and get to the ceremony.

There is no time to reflect on the merits of what is essentially a shotgun wedding, it’s done.

Of course, there’s a little sidebar in doing it, one that may play out in a sequel.

…

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the second revision and release to beta readers.

…

The end or is it the beginning.

…

It’s always fun to get to the end of the story.

This one, at times almost wrote itself because the elements were such a joy to write.

It started in a dance, two people who knew deep down they were in love with each other, they just either didn’t want to acknowledge it or didn’t think it was possible the other would ever see it.

How many of us sometimes look wistfully at the one we love and know it will never happen?

I’ve been there, and I know that feeling.

And then, when it is recognised, in a mad moment of realisation, you go from not having it to having it and not wanting to mess it up or wanting it to end.

Love is one of those emotions that is very hard to understand, control, or manage, and as it is often said, the heart does what it wants to do and you sometimes have to go along for the ride.

And sometimes put yourself out there and be damned to the consequences.

It’s going to hurt, one way or another, and we can only hope it’s a good hurt and not a bad one.

But will it help to go from relatively poor to very, very rich?

That of course is another story.

…

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the second revision and release to beta readers.

…

Home again, home again…

…

After rescuing Tim and not fulfilling the mission, which might seem to become a running theme in the relationship between the grandmother and our boy, they arrive home, hitch a ride to New York in the corporate jet, and then dispatch it to Switzerland where Annie is booked into a clinic.

Good deed for the day done.

And in a last-minute move he didn’t see coming sister Darcy, best friends with everyone, has gone with Annie to be someone familiar.  Tim of course goes with her.  A ride to Europe in a private jet, and the prospect of a holiday was worth sacrificing being at the wedding.

Well, the first wedding.

But the bad news is, while our boy was away having fun in helicopters the grandmother’s condition deteriorated as anyone with stage four cancer knows.  One minute you’re reasonably OK the next, at death’s door.

Fresh off the plane, there’s just enough time to change and get to the ceremony.

There is no time to reflect on the merits of what is essentially a shotgun wedding, it’s done.

Of course, there’s a little sidebar in doing it, one that may play out in a sequel.

…

This book has been sitting in the ‘to-be-done’ tray, so this month it is going to get the second revision and release to beta readers.

…

All’s well…

…

Maybe.

Shotguns are in abundance, Tim has one, and it’s a standoff until he sees Annie.

I guess when I was writing this it was a little moving, and not for the first time when writing something that is emotionally difficult, a tear or two happens.

It’s the same when I watch really emotional movies, though I never used to be like that.

To be honest, I don’t know what it would be like to be confronted with a very ill loved one.  I think there would be stunned silence, then the start of the realisation of what it means, followed by all sorts of thoughts.

Not what it would be like if there was nothing I could do.

It has happened to a lot of people around me.  My sister-in-law lost a daughter, taken by cancer.  They had been hoping she had beaten it, but it came back.

My wife’s best friend’s daughter has finally discovered why she was having stomach pains, yes, cancer again, stage 3 and there is hope.

But the emotional roller coaster is not one any of us want to get on.

At least in this story, I can give hope.

…