Uneasy like Sunday morning
Okay, so. I ended up going to bed early last night because in the course of writing I kept thinking things like BLAH BLAH AND THEN STUFF HAPPENED I DON'T CARE, which is a sure sign that I'm tired. And then I got up a couple of hours later for a drink of water and worked some more. And then I really went to sleep. The problem is that--well, I always feel performance anxiety, but after MSNBC and io9, it's through the roof. And you know, this whole idea that I knew I was going to do this from the moment I saw the trailer in May, and so it's like some kind of hellish Lost promo voiceover where it's like THE LAST SIX MONTHS... HAVE BEEN LEADING UP... TO THIS MOMENT, and then, like, a polar bear explodes or something.
It's days like these when I understand why writers start drinking. I'm not even being sarcastic--a little vodka in the morning orange juice, that might take the edge off, right? Get just toasted enough to not feel anxious anymore? Yeah. I'm staging a pre-emptive self-intervention now. No Woodchuck until after I finish. And basically at this point I'm just gonna sit here and take my time, as much time as it takes, just try to stay loose with it, and turn off all the "WHY DIDN'T YOU INCLUDE MY FAVORITE PART??" voices in my head.
The other thing I usually do is--well, you can tell how anxious I am by the relative silliness of the music I'm playing. I think it's time to bring out the big guns again:
It was either this or Rick-rolling myself. Don't think I won't do it, either.
ETA: Okay, it's going pretty well. I'm kind of at that point where I have more scenes written than I have unwritten, and I'm trying to go a little more Van Helsing with it (that is, not putting in every tiny detail) and it seems to be working out okay. I hate it, but I'm having to leave out most of Charlie and the kids because they were intentionally funny, and you know how little you can do with that.
It's days like these when I understand why writers start drinking. I'm not even being sarcastic--a little vodka in the morning orange juice, that might take the edge off, right? Get just toasted enough to not feel anxious anymore? Yeah. I'm staging a pre-emptive self-intervention now. No Woodchuck until after I finish. And basically at this point I'm just gonna sit here and take my time, as much time as it takes, just try to stay loose with it, and turn off all the "WHY DIDN'T YOU INCLUDE MY FAVORITE PART??" voices in my head.
The other thing I usually do is--well, you can tell how anxious I am by the relative silliness of the music I'm playing. I think it's time to bring out the big guns again:
Click to viewIt was either this or Rick-rolling myself. Don't think I won't do it, either.
ETA: Okay, it's going pretty well. I'm kind of at that point where I have more scenes written than I have unwritten, and I'm trying to go a little more Van Helsing with it (that is, not putting in every tiny detail) and it seems to be working out okay. I hate it, but I'm having to leave out most of Charlie and the kids because they were intentionally funny, and you know how little you can do with that.