I am fickle
Spent two hours this afternoon tackling the troublesome section (both girls napped at once! It's a miracle!) and now feel like a genius. I must try to remember that I occasionally do feel good about this book. That's part of the reason for keeping this journal.
I like this bit:
The rusalka swept toward her -- like sleep itself, the thing swept: grey, faceless, huge. The figure flickered like layers of ice, and appeared in little pieces: a long hand, a tumble of hair, one terrified eye. Then suddenly she had a face. It was narrow, sad, and impossibly beautiful. Plain Kate fell to her knees, as if she’d seen an angel.
I do think this is, objectively, a good book. It's just that my feelings about myself as its writer vary wildly from day to day.
43,008 / 75,000
(57.0%)
I like this bit:
The rusalka swept toward her -- like sleep itself, the thing swept: grey, faceless, huge. The figure flickered like layers of ice, and appeared in little pieces: a long hand, a tumble of hair, one terrified eye. Then suddenly she had a face. It was narrow, sad, and impossibly beautiful. Plain Kate fell to her knees, as if she’d seen an angel.
I do think this is, objectively, a good book. It's just that my feelings about myself as its writer vary wildly from day to day.
43,008 / 75,000
(57.0%)