So I’ve been trying to write something, but I keep twisting myself and writing bits of different stories. I am reminded of the Butterfly character in Peter S. Beagle’s “The Last Unicorn” who can only remember bits and pieces of songs, poems, and conversation. It is fractured and frustrating, and although it hints at greater plots, it is unable to express them.
It is my hopes that this is simply a part of my process, but it is annoying.
In and Out of Place 