Curl Up and Feed on Myself
We had our first workshop critique session in English class today. I had put up my Sassanid fic that I also submitted to Wayward's contest (which I'll link whenever she puts everything up) for critique. It was mostly praise - I had several weeks to go over the story and edit it, so it looked pretty good. Felt quite good about the session, all things considered.
And yet, I'm sitting here this afternoon, going through a "my writing sucks" funk. I don't get the way my head works at all. I just wish this tight, dead worthlessness in my chest would go away.
And yet, I'm sitting here this afternoon, going through a "my writing sucks" funk. I don't get the way my head works at all. I just wish this tight, dead worthlessness in my chest would go away.