Walked two miles up on winding roads into the Ochoco Mountains. It takes a 45 minute drive to get there, but it isn't wasted, because the drive is beautiful and it gives me time to think.

Then I sit down, with the idea of writing 1000 words, at least, and usually ending up with more than that. Surrounded by groves of Ponderosa pine and Douglas fir. Quiet, peaceful, solitary. No human sounds, not even airplanes. Chipmunks around every corner, running for cover, fat butts and tail in the air. No mosquitoes or flies. Just about perfect.

I love it.


Wrote a chapter. 1500 words.

It's kind of a goofball story, but I think that's part of the appeal. Letting my fantasy freak flag fly. I don't want to overthink it. I'm also in no hurry. I see a lot of rewriting in my future, if I can ever get around to it. Writing for the fun of it. Just building this world story by story.

It's clear to me that world building isn't my favorite thing, except as it arises in the story. So that means I have to go back to earlier stories and put that information in. I need to write this world down as I go along, so that I have a reference guide.

I need to make it internally consistent.

But I can see myself dwelling in this world for a few years, becoming completely comfortable there. In a way, I'm getting my biggest wish. I always wanted to live in Middle Earth.

Well, I can't do that, but I can live in the Thirteen Principalities. So that's like the next best thing. Maybe even better, when I really think about it.

I've been surprised at how I've written so much stuff based in the real world. I mean, I think I can tell a story and I rather like not having to build a world but using the real world as the background.

But now I think I'm ready to attempt to create a new place, like but unlike any other place. Where anything I want to happen can happen. It's a bit of fairy, really. I get lost there and time passes and the real world takes on a different look.

I'm ready for that. I can delve into that without the necessities of earning a living. I can live in the creative dream and just soak it up. Very strange.

In a way, I think I'm doing what most fantasy authors probably do. Figure it all out and write a novel or a series of novels. Except I'm doing it by writing shorter pieces, discovering more about my world as I go along. As long as I don't publish them there is no canon, nothing that has to be explained or contradicted later. I always expected to spend a few years on my fantasy opus. I just expected to write a trilogy, or something.

Which could still happen once I've worked out all the kinks.

Right now, I don't really have a Big Bad. I have the Mirror God, but the bad to the Mirror God is mankind's own behavior. I think I need something on the other end of the scale. But not your typical Dark Lord sort of thing. Something as unusual as the Mirror God.

The trick, I think, is not to worry about being published. The moment I start thinking that way, it skews my thinking. I like this living in this fantasy world on my own terms.