I have a secret, and I don’t want to tell.

It’s a writing secret.

It’s not really a secret since I’ve already told four people about it, but it feels like if I send it out into the universe via this blog, then something will happen, and that something might not be good, so instead, I’m not going to put it out there yet.  Soon, but not yet.

I don’t know why I feel like something bad will happen.  Maybe I’m just overly cautious because I’ve been so–there’s not a right word for it.  A bunch of squiggly lines all on top of each other.  Static noise given shape.  I hate the word limbo.  I don’t want to say I’ve been in limbo.  I’ve been hanging out in purgatory?  Sure, what the hell, whatever.

Nothing’s working.  Pen boys summer novella felt right, and then it didn’t.  Mason still feels right, but it also doesn’t.  I’m ready for Mason, and I’m not.  I don’t know.  I do know.  I don’t have a plot, but I want to play with his character, and that’s stopping me from doing so.  Rightfully; I mean, if I don’t have a plot, I don’t have a story.

I’m so aggravated.

But I have a secret.

A writing secret.

It’s two days old.  You won’t find it listed in my current projects.  It wasn’t a thing until I started dreaming Sunday night.  It’s–a lot of things combined.

I’ll give you two hints.  What inspired it, and the Pinterest board.

Inspirations include: Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo, The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke, and Peaky Blinders (Netflix).

Who are the Saints?