If a writer bangs her head on her keyboard in the forest, and no one is around to hear it…
Would that still be a ridiculously long subject line?
Okay, so I'm grappling with this opening that I started a million years ago. The story comes on strong out of the gate, and I'm really happy with the opening scenes. However… The plot not so much.
Which is a common problem for me. I'll start a project that's really more ambitious than what I want to write. And subsequently get fed up and walk away. But, self-critical/pitying moment aside…
The story in question opens with ATF JD & Buck's apartment trashed. JD, as well as his computer, are missing. Based on other details in the scenes, he was collected by professional badmen. I just don't know why. I mean, I knew. But I scrapped that entire line because it was drek.
So I'm sitting here contemplating creative hara-kiri with my keyboard and wishing I could bitch about this with my best friend and muse kicker. But I can't because that seems to be all I do these days. (Never mind the fact that she's going to read this anyway. Cheers, Sass!)
So, basically…. Argggggghhhhhh
Which brings me to another side note... I've found myself resorting to growls in order to express myself lately. So I'm either losing the English language -- always a distinct possibility, or I'm feeling the need for some sort of primal release. Though I suppose after all these years, my mother could be wrong and I actually was raised in a barn.
Okay, so I'm grappling with this opening that I started a million years ago. The story comes on strong out of the gate, and I'm really happy with the opening scenes. However… The plot not so much.
Which is a common problem for me. I'll start a project that's really more ambitious than what I want to write. And subsequently get fed up and walk away. But, self-critical/pitying moment aside…
The story in question opens with ATF JD & Buck's apartment trashed. JD, as well as his computer, are missing. Based on other details in the scenes, he was collected by professional badmen. I just don't know why. I mean, I knew. But I scrapped that entire line because it was drek.
So I'm sitting here contemplating creative hara-kiri with my keyboard and wishing I could bitch about this with my best friend and muse kicker. But I can't because that seems to be all I do these days. (Never mind the fact that she's going to read this anyway. Cheers, Sass!)
So, basically…. Argggggghhhhhh
Which brings me to another side note... I've found myself resorting to growls in order to express myself lately. So I'm either losing the English language -- always a distinct possibility, or I'm feeling the need for some sort of primal release. Though I suppose after all these years, my mother could be wrong and I actually was raised in a barn.