Sloan M Coll
BITS & PIECES
A mailbox is a fearsome thing. Standing alone at the road's edge, blood red arm raised in defiant salute, it takes more than it gives. Much more. Its gaping maw sucks in each new batch of crisply printed fine paper offerings which carry the hope that their professional appearance will garner favorable responses. Does it mischievously transform what it receives? Does it, out of some fit of anger in retribution for not receiving the honor it is due, change requests into rejections? Were they not placed inside the receptacle with proper reverence? Was the metal handle slammed too harshly? Oftentimes I think it must be so. I suppose I am lucky in the location of my mailbox - it is suspended (although the gallows like configuration of the support may well be cause for upset anyhow), safe from the mighty, cavernous jaws of erratically scooping snowplows; safe too, from being considered any worthy amusement for those who delight in playing mailbox hockey. After all, keeping it free of snowstorm related damage and adolescent attitudes is an act of consideration to the box's sensibilities. Perhaps that is why springtime always brings the kinder, gentler, almost apologetic sort of rejections into its confines, almost as a concession to the appearance of new buds and green grass. I light a candle, look out the window, and pray for the long awaited victory heralded by the lowering of the red flag. I am a writer - the mailbox is my god.
"DANCING WITH THE GENRE MONSTER"
About my 'Itch'
As much as I enjoy vampire fics by several authors, every time I would be enjoying one, there would also be this little voice in my head saying "How about....." or "What would happen if they.....". It was really quite distracting, particularly since I had never imagined myself writing in that particular genre. But, having finally learned from the experience of creating other written works that the only way to still the voice is to take up the pen and answer the questions it was asking, I decided to decided to do just that. In many regards the answers that came with the ink were not at all what I had expected them to be, which is the never ending delight of creating characters and watching them play.
....and a little bit regarding 'Sins'
'Sins' seemed to be an entirely appropriate name for a novel that is an exploration of the sort of sins people commit, their results, ramifications and interactions with the sins of others. It began as simply a bedtime fantasy, my own private little soap opera, to ponder and expand as I would lie awake, waiting for sleep to come. As always, it was that pesky little voice, suggesting what it would do with stereotypical villains, heroes and star crossed lovers all wrapped up in the ever present incredible coincidences and improbable circumstances, with a few slightly steamy intimate encounters, encompassing love, death, betrayal, revenge, horrible fear and indescribable happiness, that seemed to want to never end as they came pouring out onto the paper. Even now as I begin to prepare it for my next foray into the world of self publication (although the final form is still somewhat up in the air) little bits and pieces are creeping in, making it better....seems my little voice is never satisfied.