(no subject)
A few brief thoughts as Annabel lies sleeping in the bed just next to my desk, her pulse from this angle strangely visible and rapid in her neck:
My artistic output is completely stifled and stagnant. I have been "working" on the same chapter for close to a month, and avoiding my editor around town is becoming more and more difficult. To this end, I acquired a set of costume mustaches from a local novelty store, but the discount spirit gum which I bought (admittedly against the advice of the store clerk, who recommended a more expensive brand) caused an annoyingly resilient skin rash and rendered my disguise rather more trouble than it was worth. I have been ordering a lot of take-out, and having it delivered.
Meanwhile, my artistic impulses are growing darker and darker. I have been working with these characters so long that they have become kith and kin to me (marginal note: what the hell does kith mean? look up before using again); and yet all I can think of every time I sit down to write is killing them off, every last one of them, in gruesome and unexpected ways. Of course, the entire design of the novel would be thwarted if even one of the characters died; nevertheless, I am tempted to off them all (perhaps in a ballooning accident, with a nod to one of my contemporaries across the pond) and leave the last several chapters blank. Would that be considered self-indulgent?
My artistic output is completely stifled and stagnant. I have been "working" on the same chapter for close to a month, and avoiding my editor around town is becoming more and more difficult. To this end, I acquired a set of costume mustaches from a local novelty store, but the discount spirit gum which I bought (admittedly against the advice of the store clerk, who recommended a more expensive brand) caused an annoyingly resilient skin rash and rendered my disguise rather more trouble than it was worth. I have been ordering a lot of take-out, and having it delivered.
Meanwhile, my artistic impulses are growing darker and darker. I have been working with these characters so long that they have become kith and kin to me (marginal note: what the hell does kith mean? look up before using again); and yet all I can think of every time I sit down to write is killing them off, every last one of them, in gruesome and unexpected ways. Of course, the entire design of the novel would be thwarted if even one of the characters died; nevertheless, I am tempted to off them all (perhaps in a ballooning accident, with a nod to one of my contemporaries across the pond) and leave the last several chapters blank. Would that be considered self-indulgent?