(no subject)
Argh. Just...arrrrgh.
So I am trying and trying and trying to write the next chapter of 'Teacher's Pet', and does it want to be written? Does it hell. No one is co-operating; the whole thing is dragging unbearably (so much so that drafts 1, 2 and 2.5 got chucked in the metaphorical rubbish bin); Sirius is not behaving himself and, quite frankly, it's got to the point where Remus should just say: 'Sirius? Go throw yourself off the nearest tower!' and he does.
The worst of it is that I know where I want to go with this and I know how I want it to end. There's two more chapters and an epilogue but the most inspiration I've had the past couple of days for it, is the last three or four lines. Clearly my brain is trying to tell me something.
And Mars, the little bastard, isn't helping either. He needs to shut up like now please and stop eating the scenery. It doesn't help.
End of rant.
So I am trying and trying and trying to write the next chapter of 'Teacher's Pet', and does it want to be written? Does it hell. No one is co-operating; the whole thing is dragging unbearably (so much so that drafts 1, 2 and 2.5 got chucked in the metaphorical rubbish bin); Sirius is not behaving himself and, quite frankly, it's got to the point where Remus should just say: 'Sirius? Go throw yourself off the nearest tower!' and he does.
The worst of it is that I know where I want to go with this and I know how I want it to end. There's two more chapters and an epilogue but the most inspiration I've had the past couple of days for it, is the last three or four lines. Clearly my brain is trying to tell me something.
And Mars, the little bastard, isn't helping either. He needs to shut up like now please and stop eating the scenery. It doesn't help.
End of rant.