Of love, legos and bad days gone well...with a bit of a writing angst chaser
I went to work with a nasty migraine today - because, let’s face it, most days you just don’t have a choice - for a big project meeting and to meet a tight deadline on another project. Yup, it was a putting the FU in fun kind of a day.
But I came home to Legos and cookies so, really, it wasn’t all bad. Not at all, at all actually.
My grinning husband greeted me at the door with gentle hugs and a ‘how are you feeling?’ and then he said, ‘for you, one rogue’ and handed me a Lego microfighters Millennium Falcon. Um, wow! I do like flowers, but they’re so ephemeral that buying them always seems wasteful somehow. But spontaneous Lego purchases are forever…or something like that.
*gentle, non-head shaking, happy dance*
See, I have a massive thing for well written rouge characters - a proclivity of which my husband is well aware, he being my forever rogue and all - and I often say that my first rogues were Han Solo and Alan Breck. So a Lego Han Solo is just so many of favorite things all in one place. And after I passed out for two hours with my meds and a heating pad on my head, we built Lego fighters and he baked cookies. Yes cookies!
I could have seriously done without the pain, but the evening turned out to be a really nice one - a really nice one, actually. And, as a side benefit, I now know that Legos work great for me post-migraine. Once the pain is gone, I get the shaky hands, really uncoordinated, fuzzy brained thing for up to a day after and this seemed to help...sufficiently so that I have written something more or less coherent here at any rate, though my typing is highly suspect. Cool beans.
Now if only the personal writing were going so well. I’m having a lot of fun with it, but definitely in between bouts of ‘I am a complete and utter hack and I hate every word I write.’
I started out writing one TGS fic that I figured would be a good, short-ish, getting my feet wet sort of fic back in October. Somehow, my short-ish idea has become 56k words and counting - 32.5k of it is even consecutive at the moment, the rest is very Lot 666 as we say in my house (a chandelier novella in pieces). And, yikes! I love it. I hate it. I’m kind of stupidly proud that I’ve at least gotten this far. I’m smitten with some of my own ideas. But I also worry that, in the end, I’m going to turn around and find that I have written some 75k words of absolute crap.
In the middle of writing the big, crazy thing (which does actually have a real name now, so I suppose that means I’m keeping it) my plot bunnies had plot bunnies - because, well, bunnies - and I started writing two shorter TGS things, shorter meaning probably 8 to 10K words. This is good because a) maybe I can finish something soon-ish and b) the big, crazy thing is angsty, so it’s nice that one of my shorter things is just post race happy sexings. In fact, the post race happy thing (which has a real name now too, just this week actually) is almost done…should be almost done…but I’m frankly terrified of the ‘after I finish it’ part. I think this is why I’m dragging my feet so much finishing it - once it’s finished I should probably post it and that’s just plain scary. That and I’m definitely in a hack-feeling phase this week.
Aaaaaand another self-imposed deadline whooshes by and I don’t post anything in March either. Love that sound…grumble, grumble. But I guess what I really should be taking from this is that I’m writing and I care enough about what I’m writing to be thoroughly annoyed by it…oh, and I have Legos. *nods*
But I came home to Legos and cookies so, really, it wasn’t all bad. Not at all, at all actually.
My grinning husband greeted me at the door with gentle hugs and a ‘how are you feeling?’ and then he said, ‘for you, one rogue’ and handed me a Lego microfighters Millennium Falcon. Um, wow! I do like flowers, but they’re so ephemeral that buying them always seems wasteful somehow. But spontaneous Lego purchases are forever…or something like that.
*gentle, non-head shaking, happy dance*
See, I have a massive thing for well written rouge characters - a proclivity of which my husband is well aware, he being my forever rogue and all - and I often say that my first rogues were Han Solo and Alan Breck. So a Lego Han Solo is just so many of favorite things all in one place. And after I passed out for two hours with my meds and a heating pad on my head, we built Lego fighters and he baked cookies. Yes cookies!
I could have seriously done without the pain, but the evening turned out to be a really nice one - a really nice one, actually. And, as a side benefit, I now know that Legos work great for me post-migraine. Once the pain is gone, I get the shaky hands, really uncoordinated, fuzzy brained thing for up to a day after and this seemed to help...sufficiently so that I have written something more or less coherent here at any rate, though my typing is highly suspect. Cool beans.
Now if only the personal writing were going so well. I’m having a lot of fun with it, but definitely in between bouts of ‘I am a complete and utter hack and I hate every word I write.’
I started out writing one TGS fic that I figured would be a good, short-ish, getting my feet wet sort of fic back in October. Somehow, my short-ish idea has become 56k words and counting - 32.5k of it is even consecutive at the moment, the rest is very Lot 666 as we say in my house (a chandelier novella in pieces). And, yikes! I love it. I hate it. I’m kind of stupidly proud that I’ve at least gotten this far. I’m smitten with some of my own ideas. But I also worry that, in the end, I’m going to turn around and find that I have written some 75k words of absolute crap.
In the middle of writing the big, crazy thing (which does actually have a real name now, so I suppose that means I’m keeping it) my plot bunnies had plot bunnies - because, well, bunnies - and I started writing two shorter TGS things, shorter meaning probably 8 to 10K words. This is good because a) maybe I can finish something soon-ish and b) the big, crazy thing is angsty, so it’s nice that one of my shorter things is just post race happy sexings. In fact, the post race happy thing (which has a real name now too, just this week actually) is almost done…should be almost done…but I’m frankly terrified of the ‘after I finish it’ part. I think this is why I’m dragging my feet so much finishing it - once it’s finished I should probably post it and that’s just plain scary. That and I’m definitely in a hack-feeling phase this week.
Aaaaaand another self-imposed deadline whooshes by and I don’t post anything in March either. Love that sound…grumble, grumble. But I guess what I really should be taking from this is that I’m writing and I care enough about what I’m writing to be thoroughly annoyed by it…oh, and I have Legos. *nods*