Digging into the draft of the next novel I plan to prepare for submission, I find myself being pulled deeply into the potentials of one small, seemingly insignificant catalyst and object of symbolism. It’s a mouse…well, mice.
These aren’t dancing mice, talking mice, or any kind of out-of-the-ordinary rodents. These are your standard variety – small, gray, bewhiskered, and turd-dropping — the kind cats love to bite.
So how can the presence of a mouse so intrigue me? I suppose because you just never know what they will do next that’s going to create havoc when a surprised human reacts to their surreptitious or panicked movements.
Recently:
- Moving is Tough on Writing Novels
- Move complete & back online…when the DSL doesn’t falter
- Offline for a week.
- The ‘I’ Proposition
- No, I didn’t get eaten by my novel.
- Scott Heim reads We Disappear at last reading at Chelsea
- Hunger in the World
- What a Beta Reader Can & Cannot Do
- A Gift for Eternity Finds a Home
- Today’s Giggle: SE vs Employee, the Benefits — Not.
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