Oh crap, I think I give up.
I’ve been pushing myself to do the conspiracy story. Friends have been pushing me to do the conspiracy story. Hell, even random passing strangers lean over and whisper, “Do the conspiracy story!”
But Connor’s rattling chains drown them all out.
The little son-of-a-bitch (err, not so little now: he’s been working out in prison, and he’s 6’1″ and 180ish nowadays) has me by the…neck, and he knows it.
I was trying to work on the two potential next stories on alternate days, but over the last week the only thing I’ve really touched is Connor’s sequel. Dammit. I don’t even have a clear plot for it yet! Basic idea, yes, but plot? Not even close. Not yet, anyway.
What I do have is a character I like, a character who has a lot more to give. I also have a universe I am enjoying (now that I turned it all dark and bitter and angry), and a ton of shit to explore.
Besides, I’ve already dealt with suicide; it can’t get any worse than that…can it?
Abandonment issues…family issues…survivor’s guilt…and, of course, the bullshit of the elites and their exploitation of the “little guy”. Yup, still got some stuff to work with. Besides, everyone needs a teen-aged thief who appreciates good booze and good music, and can scam the shit out of anyone he meets!
The fact that he’s an emotional cripple with serious anger and resentment issues is, umm, secondary. Ish.
Fine. The ghost wins. He gets to tell his next story. But I am gonna make him suffer for this!
What are the odds he gets a happy ending this time?
C’mon, it’s Connor…