Why did I even agree to this?
I keep having these awful moments where I remember that I'm actually meant to be writing something for spn_j2_bigbang and that I haven't written anything yet and that soon I may die of the sheer inability to put words on paper. I think perhaps I will lock myself in a coffee shop and not come out until a couple of thousand words have spewed forth.
Because I've worked it all out and to finish in time, I've got to write 1500 words a week. Nothing, you say, nothing! THIS IS ME WE'RE TALKING ABOUT HERE. Write or Die could have a mode called Gentle Coaxing and I'd still be tearing my hair out.
Oh, story, why do you have to be hilarious and campy when you know all I want to do is cheer up Gwennie by writing something angsty about zombies with a prominence of Gwaine?
There will be podfic, soon. Sherlock podfic, at that. It's just that recording requires, you know, quiet and my housemates are sadly unable to comprehend that I might want to complete silence for a few hours so I can bemoan my impression of Benedict Cumberbatch.
While they are sleeping. Surely then it will be silent.
ETA:
Loooooooooook, isn't it terrifying?
Because I've worked it all out and to finish in time, I've got to write 1500 words a week. Nothing, you say, nothing! THIS IS ME WE'RE TALKING ABOUT HERE. Write or Die could have a mode called Gentle Coaxing and I'd still be tearing my hair out.
Oh, story, why do you have to be hilarious and campy when you know all I want to do is cheer up Gwennie by writing something angsty about zombies with a prominence of Gwaine?
There will be podfic, soon. Sherlock podfic, at that. It's just that recording requires, you know, quiet and my housemates are sadly unable to comprehend that I might want to complete silence for a few hours so I can bemoan my impression of Benedict Cumberbatch.
While they are sleeping. Surely then it will be silent.
ETA:
Loooooooooook, isn't it terrifying?