The wall

D: A? A, where are you? Why is it so dark in here? What’s going on? Why is my voice echoing? Mommy, hold me!

A: Chill, D. I’m here.

D: Good heavens, woman! Don’t do that to me.

A: Ha! Didn’t know you could jump that far, Druid.

D: I didn’t jump . . .  I was practicing my calisthenics.

A: Do you even know what those are?

D: . . . they have something to do with vigor and attempting to assuage your sedentary bodies now that you no longer hunt for your food.

A: Fair play, D. Speaking of. . .

D: Oh no you don’t. Where did you go? Why was it dark and more than a little creepy up here?

A: Are you telling me that you’re afraid of the dark? The big bad Druid, the man who made old gods real? The wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey master who is tying my brain into knots with his plot holes is afraid of the dark?

D: Does it make you feel better to think so?

A: . . . yes.

D: All right. I will fall on my sword for the greater good. It won’t be the first time.

A: And if there is a god in the heavens—

D: Oi! No wishing for my death. I was speaking metaphorically.

A: And I wasn’t?

D: No.

A: You know me too well, D.

D: {Sob} I know!

A: Well, if that’s all, I think I will-

D: Not so fast, woman. You are avoiding the question.

A: No, I’m avoiding the answer. You’ve already asked the question.

D: . . .

A: I went nowhere. I went everywhere. Despite having to re-write four chapters over the last two days, I am thisclose to finishing book 1 but hells-bells, D–

D: A, I’m a Druid. I don’ t do hell.

. . . Yeah, D. Listen to Capt. Jack.

A: I would soooo beg to differ. Your shenanigans have my brain twisted all around and inside out. It hurts, D. Stuffing the plot holes alone is giving me brain cramps. So, I evacuated the land of the socially functioning and bypassed much of the rest of the world for a few days. This is my sole come-up-for-air moment.

D: I’m sorry, A. I really am. That’s a nice word, too, shenanigans.

A: What’s wrong with you?

D: What do you mean?

A: You never like my words. And you said you’re sorry. Oh my god, are you dying?

D: We’re all dying A – it’s simply a matter of time.

A: I hate you.

D: No you don’t, A. You’re tired and I think you’ve hit the proverbial wall.  And to answer your question, I’m not the D you know now. I’m an older, relaxed version of myself who has gone through the publishing process with you. We’re going to have great fun, A. Just you wait and see.

A: God, why do you do this to me?

D: Wibbly wobbly, A. Wibbly Wobbly.

A’s telling the tale tonight, Baby!

Actually I’m not because I have no tale to tell – and neither does D. Side effect of writerly-hibernation: we have no idea of what’s  going on.

D: Speak for yourself, woman.

A: Pardon?

D: I happen to know that Dean, of Dean’z Doodlez won Green Embers’ contest.

A: Oh?

D: Yes. And Charles not only has some incredible news about Prodigy of Rainbow Tower, but he’s also funny. You should take pointers, A.

A: I’ll consider it–

D: Then there is Helena’s twisted associate, Jessica Bell, who has begun a delightfully creepy series, the Bayou Bonhomme Serial, which everyone should check out.

A: Indeed. Is there more?

D: Of course. Andra’s tribute to her father’s birthday month, as well as his rather ingenious acquisitions is heart-warming and charming.

A: As is her style.

D: And finally, even though you like the man, I’d like to congratulate Ms. Melissa Janda for saying what we all think: Hemmingway can sometimes be boring, confusing and oh yeah, a drunk.

A: I don’t think she said that, D. She was talking about the ‘rules’ of writing that Hemmingway breaks with reckless—

D: Drunken.

A: Abandon as he sets out to tell a tale of the Lost Generation. I’d think you’d appreciate that, D. Besides, Hemmingway’s comments on the state of one’s first draft are, I find, spot-freaking-on.

D: You’re just mad because you don’t understand time travel.

A: (Whimper).

D: Now, where were we? Ah, yes: I encourage you all to visit The Community Storyboard, where new artwork – courtesy Dean of Dean’z Doodlez– graces the space, depicting the twelve editors  in their superhero guise. Very well done, Dean.

A: And while you’re there, take a moment to read some of the fantastic work – and even consider submitting some of your own!


Published by Katie Sullivan

Descended of pirates and revolutionaries, Katie Sullivan is a lover and student of all things Irish. Born in the States, she is a dual US/Irish citizen, and studied history and politics at University College, Dublin – although, at the time, she seriously considered switching to law, if only so she could attend lectures at the castle on campus. She lives in Milwaukee with her daughter, two cats and a pesky character in her head named D (but you can call him Dubh). Her first series, The Changelings Saga, a young adult historical fantasy trilogy is available on Amazon. She can be found writing with said character at her blog, The D/A Dialogues.

19 thoughts on “The wall

  1. It makes me feel really good to know that D is afraid of the dark…….because I am petrified of it. I can suddenly relate to him so much better. (Don’t let it go to your head, D.)


    1. I can’t guarantee anything, Andra! Everything goes to that Druid’s head. He’s had a lot happen to him in dark places (but even I don’t like the dark, especially if I’ve been paying attention to the spookier things in life!).


    1. Thank you! This is what happens when I write spur-of-the-moment blog posts at 10 at night…either its older, more relaxed D who comes to play for 5 seconds, or I’m delirious! 😛


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