I told wynderlon the other day that I feel like I’m in an old western movie.
On one end of the dusty street running through the one horse town is me, gun strapped to my hip and a glint in my squinty eye. I have a six pointed badge that flashes in the sun of high noon.
On the other end of the street is my story, Fair Play. It also has a six-shooter, and a bandoleer. Because, why not? Every good western needs a villain with a bandoleer**.
Who’s going to draw first? I’m really not sure. I keep opening the stupid thing and staring at it, and the stupid thing stares back at me with absolutely nothing useful to say. I managed to get my characters down the road a ways, anyway. But I’m still not sure I’m going to win this fight.
On the plus side, I did get another 1000 words out of the thing, and edited yet another chapter of the endless Waking Kiara edit-palooza. She’s finally going to get both men at once, woo!
*yes I know this wasn’t from a western. But that’s the image I always get, all Clint and dirt and grit.
**I googled this word to make sure I spelled it right, and discovered bandoleers for concealed carry rigs. I’m now more afraid of humanity than ever.
