It weirds me out a…

It weirds me out a little, how smoothly the writing is going on this new project. Oh, I get stuck occasionally on a medical bit, and every day I need to pause and think through the next scene. But once I have the action in my head, I just go, and the words pour out. It's strange, and lovely, and makes me deeply suspicious.

I start wondering if I'm not working hard enough on the prose, if I should be trying to do something more impressive with it. It's good prose, I think, but it's not fancy at all. Minimal, workman-like, for the most part. A bit of lyricism here and there, but I'm trying to restrain my G.G.Kay-like tendencies. I've written things that are more beautiful, and things that are more richly thematic, intertextual, even. But this isn't that.

This is storytelling, pure and simple. If there is challenge, it's in imagining a plausible future, the bits and bobs of it. And in populating space with brown folks, and with queer folk and poly folk and aliens too. Complex characters with complicated histories and relationships. The occasional plot twist.

That's challenge enough for this book, I think? Maybe. Maybe not. It makes me nervous.

Am I doing enough? Shouldn't this be harder?

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