Story Metastasis
A few weeks ago, I sat down to write a simple story about full-body transplants. My primary inspiration was the hilariously-bad early 60s B-Movie The Brain That Wouldn't Die (not to be confused with other, equally hilariously-bad, but far less inspirational, full-body transplant B-movies such as Monstrosity: The Atomic Brain!). Basically, I wanted to see what actual people would do in such a situation; it was to be a short little comedy.
I have now written twenty pages by hand at a rate of approximately four hundred words a day; if I ever get around to typing the damn thing up, that will be over 30 pages most certainly. The thing is, even though I have a sinking feeling that it has a terminal case of the "totally sucks," there's still enough that I like (and I think I know where it's headed now, though whether or not it ends up being as comedic as I had planned remains to be seen) that I don't feel I can stop writing it!
I suspect that I will have to finish the story, put it away for six months, reread it, and salvage it as best as I can.
I have now written twenty pages by hand at a rate of approximately four hundred words a day; if I ever get around to typing the damn thing up, that will be over 30 pages most certainly. The thing is, even though I have a sinking feeling that it has a terminal case of the "totally sucks," there's still enough that I like (and I think I know where it's headed now, though whether or not it ends up being as comedic as I had planned remains to be seen) that I don't feel I can stop writing it!
I suspect that I will have to finish the story, put it away for six months, reread it, and salvage it as best as I can.