“Spence, I know what you need,” Uncle Lee said gently. “Put
your problem out of your mind for a time and come with me to Every Trick over
in Hermival. We’ll bask in the vellichor and not think about anything but
finding the very most mysterious long-forgotten books.”
Happy Halloween/Helloween/Samhain from Ornery Owl
notes if you want 'em
The paragraph above is doomed to become part of my latest WIP, Cosmically Bonded, a cursed novella or novel that is a not particularly well-disguised nudge and wink with tongue planted firmly in cheek fic written with love for my Wincesty friends. Thus far, the story has been fraught with peril as I had to shelve it for a time to concentrate on writing Silent Scream, my contribution for consideration in The Colour Out of Deathlehem anthology.
Whenever I have to backburner a story, I end up anxious that I may permanently abandon it. The truth is, I have many more abandoned stories than published ones. Some may eventually get a second chance at life. Most will not.
Wanting to give all the stories and craft ideas in my mind a chance and wanting to hang around and help my son are the two driving forces behind my nightly dyslexic agnostic existential crisis. I don't really sit up pondering whether or not there's a dog. I sit up wishing that my son and I could be together always, wondering how many of my stories I'll be able to bring to life, and whether I'll ever be anything but a crushing disappointment and an embarrassment to my family.
And that, my fiends and foes, is as real as it gets.
Honestly, I don't want anyone telling me not to think that way, proselytizing (it won't work) or trying to "comfort" me by telling me that I and my ideas will be snuffed out and return to compounds. That one really doesn't work. My body will be, sure, but I'm not convinced that one's consciousness/essence/soul just fucks off for good and all. I prefer to believe in the possibility of the continuation of the soul, so let's just leave it at that.
~Ornery Owl~
The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)
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Ooohhh,,,"vellichor." A new word for me, and now firmly lodged in my brain right beside "petrichor." Lovely, lovely, lovely! Thank you! (P.S. I'll meet you in the used bookshop.)
ReplyDeleteThanks for teaching me vellichor. What a perfectly wonderful word! I tend to believe the soul hangs around, by the way!
ReplyDeletei think i know a thing about abandoned stories as much as you do. i just found a bunch of abandoned old stories recently, and i thought of reworking on them. Maybe not, but it was like meeting old friends.
ReplyDeleteyour response to the prompt is excellent, and vellichor is not exactly and easy word to write. :)
I have started many projects, then get interrupted with another project... repeat...
ReplyDeleteI have similar thoughts as you.
I love the smell of an old bookstore ... you just know perfection resides inside! Awesome write.
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday. Thanks for dropping by my blog today
ReplyDeleteMuch💜love
I hope this possible bit of your WIP becomes a full story. The world shouldn't have to go without tales full of secondhand bookstore adventures.
ReplyDeleteUncle Lee seems to know where it's at! :-)
ReplyDelete48 words would be quite a challenge! I always have to prune a lot to get my prose pieces for P&SU down to 369. (Good discipline though, and I think they end up better for it.) I'd like to read a story where people hunt for 'the very most mysterious long-forgotten books' – but even one paragraph has quite made my morning.
ReplyDeleteI wonder why so many want a dog. I think they should be wild and not my pet.
ReplyDeletewhat a cool word, and you've captured it perfectly ~
ReplyDeleteYours is a piece full of wisdom, because in a while we have put our problems out of our minds. Brilliant advice by Uncle Lee.
ReplyDeleteNo proselytizing here. I will just say that I miss indulging in vellichor too, and I also have some story bits and bobs in the laboratory waiting for me to come along and electrocute them into life.
ReplyDelete