Howard Hughes hardly eyes a bat.

[greygirlbeast]

There's not much good to be said for yesterday, unwriting wise. I did add about 300 words at some point, because three thumbs are apparently better than two. I am fairly certain that the Mordorian Death March at last and finally ends tomorrow. There will be aftershocks, to be sure, and I will deal with them as they arise, but I will be free to get

Comments

[sclerotic_rings]

No snarkiness, and nothing but appreciation for the thoughts going through docbrite's head, but I feel for her. When I quit, it was a mercy killing for a twit who figured that snark was a replacement for forethought or analysis, and I'm glad that "Paul T. Riddell" is dead, because I didn't much care for him. In her case, though, I can see that she's still a writer in the best possible sense, and that she has that worst curse of all: she has stories she wants to tell and tell well. The fact that her editor doesn't understand that...well, this is what you get when you give people like me editorial positions, expense accounts, and the occasional mention in Publisher's Weekly to feed the already Brobdingnagian ego. If she needs time to figure out whether she wants to keep telling those stories or if she wants to find a new medium to tell them, I'm the last person to tell her that it's a bad idea.

[docbrite]

Thanks; I appreciate these comments. Over the past several months, I've occasionally thought of your quitting and wondered if I would end up in the same situation. You're correct that wanting/having to tell particular stories as well as you're capable of is a kind of curse; I'd be much better off financially if I'd been the sort of writer who could crank out 43,725 Lost Souls sequels, but that was never an option, not so much due to any high-flown integrity as because I am simply incapable of "cranking out" anything; if I can't find a way of caring about the work, I cannot do it.

[sclerotic_rings]

Of course you won't end up in the same situation as me: you have talent.

[txtriffidranch]

The other aspect to mention is that you don't have any reason to question the work itself. In my case, I looked at the shit I was writing, wondered why I was killing myself for no return on articles that weren't even close to relevant to anything, wondered further why I was working so damn hard to pick fights with people that didn't need any grief from me, and took the "T." out to the yard and gave him a twelve-gauge cerebral enema. I look back upon the totality of my "work" with nothing but shame and horror. However, Liquor alone is enough for you to ascertain that even if you give yourself a break from writing, you've still reasons to return to it whenever you want.

And along that line, although I haven't said anything until now, I really want to apologize for the uncalled-for shit I wrote about your work in Tangent all those years ago. That was uncalled-for, and it's still one of my listed reasons as to why I quit writing and went Brother Cadfael. Now if I can just get that Sarracenia cultivar going, as I think it's high time

[docbrite]

And along that line, although I haven't said anything until now, I really want to apologize for the uncalled-for shit I wrote about your work in Tangent all those years ago.

Was that when you said I was single-handedly ruining horror? I never saw it, but Christa Faust told me about it. If so, no apology necessary; I was at such a cocky, obnoxious point in my life that I actually thought stuff like that was cool and kinda flattering: "YEAH! I'm single-handedly dismantling a whole genre!"