Sometimes I Fear You'll Drown Me

“You still owe me a boat ride, Lysander Malavazos.”

Frowning, turning his attention back to the lake, he said almost cautiously: “But you said you walked out in front of me on purpose. I don’t think I really owe you anything.”

Julia was laughing again, hair autumn fire in the setting sun. No longer did she wear the golden shirt, but Lysander almost wished she did. The light white dress she wore now, her feet bare aside from four different toe-rings, made her look like she was a cut-out of another universe pasted into this one. “But don’t you want to owe me something?”

It almost hurt to look at her. “No.”

Julia’s dark eyes flared with amusement at his reply. “But what if you already do?”

~*~

This is my writing journal -- it holds one completed work, and then a story in progress by the name of People In Looking-Glass Houses. The completed draft novel, on the other hand, is a strange piece of contemporary urban-fantasy fiction I call For What We Drown. The entire first volume, consisting of seventy thousand words shoved higgedly-piggedly into some semblance of order, was completed in sixteen days of NaNoWriMo 2003. Two years later, it is at last complete! Sixteen days to write part one, well over sixteen months to write part two...boy, what a twonk, eh?

It is a closed community, so if you want to join, comment over at my usual day-to-day journal claireoujisama. If I know you, chances are you'll be friended on the spot. If we're meeting for the first time, let me know how you found me and why you want to be able to access my insanity. It just helps me out a lot, 'tis all. [smiles] To be honest, I'm a little wary of adding people I don't know, as I mainly keep this journal so friends can see what I am up to in my writing. Like most writer-whores, I thrive on any kind of feedback.

[coughs] At any rate. Volume One is here (16/11/03) and tells the story from the point of view of Andy Malavazos. Volume Two is darker and more confusing as it is the backstory trespassing on their future as told through the eyes of Julia de la Mare. She's a bitch to write, but I suppose we all most suffer for our sins art sometime. ^^;;

In the meantime? The lyrics of a Vienna Teng song that say something about what this story is all about. Sometimes all we want to do is drown, but then breathing underwater might be easier than you'd first think.

summer move forward and stitch me the fabric of fall
wrap life in the brilliance of death to humble us all
how sweet is the day
I'm craving a darkness
as I sit tucked away with my back to the wall

and the taste of dried-up hopes in my mouth
and the landscape of merry and desperate drought
how much longer dear angels
let winterlight come
and spread your white sheets over my empty house

summer move forward and leave your heat anchored in dust
forgotten him, cheated him, painted illusions of lust
now language escape, fugitive of forgiveness
leaving as trace only circles of rust

and the taste of dried-up hopes in my mouth
and the landscape of merry and desperate drought
how much longer dear angels
come break me with ice
let the water of calm trickle over my doubts

come let me drown
angels no fire no salt on the plow
carry me down
bury me down

and the taste of dried-up hopes in my mouth
and the landscape of merry and desperate drought
once I knew myself
and with knowing came love
I would know love again if I had faith enough
too far is next spring and her jubilant shout
so angels, inside
is the only way out