It's June, the month when I diligently open Vampire Heart's never ending first draft and start writing up the rest of the story. By the end of the month the story should reach close to 260k words. And that's definitely my longest story so far. I mean sure the Demon series has 5 books so far (the 5th not being completed yet) and so obviously the total of words is a bit higher but in a different way. Here I have been sticking with Viorel forever. It kind of feel good somehow.
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The less I had to lie the more she was imagining I had a terrible childhood, the more she was getting worried about me getting sick but I couldn’t help it, after a while of repeating the same things and hearing the same thing, I was getting a bit dizzy. In contrast she was talking a lot, maybe to compensate, she was talking about everything but everything was so few. I was under the impression that talking had some sort of mystical power over humans to make them feel better. Human and most especially human woman are strange creatures, they don’t have anything interesting to say but still keep on talking. I thought first it was the love of their own voice but after a while I realized that they just needed to break the silence as if the silence was going to separate them. For me I thought if I was really interested in someone like she seemed interesting in me, I will just keep quiet and look at them, until the vision get so carved into my mind that I will never forgot again. I would know everything about them just my looking the way them move and smile, the talking was just an artificial was to hide yourself from who you really are, the talking was breaking all the intimacy. I think if I talked as much as she did I would have gotten tired of the sound of my own voice.
She liked to draw, sometimes she asked for the boat to stop in certain places for the afternoon and she started to draw the landscape. When she was in a drawing mood, she didn’t care if that as convenient for food, water or candles supplies. That’s why we were often running out of them. She also decided to teach me, when I started I wasn’t really sure about was I was doing but after few lines it all became clear. My hand was running on the paper, I didn’t impressed myself; I already experienced that with the sword. Things coming back to me, I guessed that as long as it was not something I needed to think about my body could remember, the problem was my head. But I really impressed her, for her that was another strange thing about me. She just called me a genius and didn’t really ask for any explanation. The captain in the other hand was looking at my work suspiciously. Every time I thought I was done with him, something was bringing him to distrust me again. I didn’t really care much, I was just extremely careful about my behavior every time we were approaching a city. I didn’t really want him to do anything foolish and ask the police about me, before we left Hungary. For me the drawing was another key to my past, I probably spend years drawing. I started to think that I could have known how to draw even before she was born and the thought made me realized how empty my life was without my memory. The only thing that she pointed out about my art were the colors, even during day time, I was drawing dark landscapes, night landscapes. I would never have noticed without her.
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Good luck this June! I hope you get a ton written.
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