Not Writing About the Rally

Enough people are writing about the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear today that aside from a comment or two I made on Facebook or Twitter, I'm not going to contribute to the noise (but I'm not above putting the name in my post to pull a little search engine traffic).  Instead, I've been sitting here listening to some old favorites--Indigo Girls, Jimmy Buffett and Jon Bon Jovi... and in listening to a song by the latter, Bed of Roses, I was thinking about some of the lyrics and my recent procrastination:

Tonight I won't be alone, but you know that don't mean I not lonely.

When I heard that line, that I've heard hundreds of times before, I thought of it in another context.  Admittedly fixated on how to break out of my funk, I often have to process the real reason for being there... and when it comes to the book I'm currently writing, it occurred to me this afternoon, I will (once again) miss writing this character.  Those who have had the honor and indeed privilege of previewing this book, or are familiar with my earlier self-published tome, know that I write in first person, and that character, while not me, is at times reminiscent of things I may say.  I might even use her to voice things I would never say in real life.  Like the last time I finished up this character's story, I missed her.  Writing characters you have to know them better than you know anything else and they all become a part of you to some extent. So, while I fully intend to pick up the pen to ink a new one, I will miss her until she's resurrected to her next set of adventures later on.

And now that I recognize this, perhaps tomorrow I can resume bringing this toward its inevitable end.  Of course, Bon Jovi's love ballad, I recognize, is a somewhat ironic tune to bring me to finishing up a book that is anything but the anti-love story.  Then again, perhaps writing about someone with a horticulture fetish might be interesting, if not terrifying (though appropriate).