Okay, so I broke down and wrote.
I shouldn't have, I didn't (don't) have the time, I should have been working on my bibliography, but I couldn't help it.
Removed about seventy words from the ficlet for space_oddity_75 and added maybe a hundred. The total length is 394 words now. The fic's probably not all that far from being finished - maybe another 200 words plus, of course, extensive editing/rewriting. Two months, maybe? It's hard to tell.
I am *indecently* pleased with what I've written. It came totally out of left field; one moment I had no clue what the last part of the ficlet would be about, and the next moment, it was there, if only in the sketchiest of terms. I was fully expecting to be stuck there again for another couple of weeks or so, but for some reason my brain was ready to do the "refining" (of sketchy, cliché, boring language into something a little more interesting) right away. So I ended up with two more than decent paragraphs in about half an hour. Go me!
(Short paragraphs, of course. What did you think? *g*)
Reading those two paragraphs I also noticed, not for the first time, how much my command of the language has improved. I simply wouldn't have been *able* to move that far from the 'prescribed' use of English seven years ago. I used to feel that my inability to use language a bit more creatively was due to lack of talent, but I'm beginning to see that it was at least in part simply lack of practice.
So... then I reread what I have so far of the Massive Angst Overdose Epic (that's the one that's also the cause of my forthcoming Angst Meta to End All Angst Meta) and was not entirely surprised to find that I still love the part about Maya. Like, seriously love. I love it so much I've been close to posting it here at least twice.
It's not quite healthy, this extreme love of my own writing. I'm not all that great, realistically speaking. Yet I can't help it, reading the better parts of my own writing gives me major warm fuzzy feelings, and I'm all "wow, I wrote that?!"
(See, folks? This is why I don't really need feedback. I'm pretty good with the self-love. *g*)
As I said: it's ridiculous, really. Compared to the really good writers, in this fandom or any, I'm... well, not quite a beginner anymore, but hardly better than average.
Oh well. I guess it's better to be a bit too much in love with your own writing than it would be to hate everything you've written. (Been there, done that, actually. Years ago. I was pretty serious about never trying to write again at sixteen.) At least it's less stressful and frustrating. Of course, writing is still frustrating, but my frustrations tend to be of the "dammit, what's happening next?" type, not the "why am I so crap?" type.
I think I'm going to take my laptop to work tomorrow, and try to write a bit there. I've got eight hours - it should be possible to spend some of that time catching up with LJ, and some doing some writing.
Removed about seventy words from the ficlet for space_oddity_75 and added maybe a hundred. The total length is 394 words now. The fic's probably not all that far from being finished - maybe another 200 words plus, of course, extensive editing/rewriting. Two months, maybe? It's hard to tell.
I am *indecently* pleased with what I've written. It came totally out of left field; one moment I had no clue what the last part of the ficlet would be about, and the next moment, it was there, if only in the sketchiest of terms. I was fully expecting to be stuck there again for another couple of weeks or so, but for some reason my brain was ready to do the "refining" (of sketchy, cliché, boring language into something a little more interesting) right away. So I ended up with two more than decent paragraphs in about half an hour. Go me!
(Short paragraphs, of course. What did you think? *g*)
Reading those two paragraphs I also noticed, not for the first time, how much my command of the language has improved. I simply wouldn't have been *able* to move that far from the 'prescribed' use of English seven years ago. I used to feel that my inability to use language a bit more creatively was due to lack of talent, but I'm beginning to see that it was at least in part simply lack of practice.
So... then I reread what I have so far of the Massive Angst Overdose Epic (that's the one that's also the cause of my forthcoming Angst Meta to End All Angst Meta) and was not entirely surprised to find that I still love the part about Maya. Like, seriously love. I love it so much I've been close to posting it here at least twice.
It's not quite healthy, this extreme love of my own writing. I'm not all that great, realistically speaking. Yet I can't help it, reading the better parts of my own writing gives me major warm fuzzy feelings, and I'm all "wow, I wrote that?!"
(See, folks? This is why I don't really need feedback. I'm pretty good with the self-love. *g*)
As I said: it's ridiculous, really. Compared to the really good writers, in this fandom or any, I'm... well, not quite a beginner anymore, but hardly better than average.
Oh well. I guess it's better to be a bit too much in love with your own writing than it would be to hate everything you've written. (Been there, done that, actually. Years ago. I was pretty serious about never trying to write again at sixteen.) At least it's less stressful and frustrating. Of course, writing is still frustrating, but my frustrations tend to be of the "dammit, what's happening next?" type, not the "why am I so crap?" type.
I think I'm going to take my laptop to work tomorrow, and try to write a bit there. I've got eight hours - it should be possible to spend some of that time catching up with LJ, and some doing some writing.