*is a sheep*
aurora_novarum, you're a star! Your pep talk seems to have done the trick - I'm tentatively hopeful that I might actually finish this story and reclaim my soul bit. And working out the season really did help. Thank you ever so much. You might have saved my sanity. *g*
Oh, I held out, but I can resist no longer...
The state of my apocalypse
Current wordcount: 365 (!!!)
Total wordcount of versions written and then discarded: Circa 15,000+ (*headdesk*)
Number of times I've had an epiphany of 'This is it! I've got it at last!': About once every two weeks
Number of complete restarts from the beginning: 8
Bits I really like that aren't going to make the final cut: Vast swathes
Number of plans drawn up: 5
Number of plans I usually draw up for a fic: 0
Number of changes to how the world ended: 4 (Replicators, Ori, Goa'uld attack, never discovered)
Originality of ideas: 3%
Number of ficathons I've tried to write this for: 2
Length of playlist for writing this fic to: 3.6 hrs, before my iPod died and took with it the playlist.
Certainty I have of finishing this time: 58% (amber alert)
Likelihood of me turning into Inspector Clouseau's boss or Robert Lindsey in GBH before this fic is done: High (already got the eye-twitch)
Pirates: 4 5 galactic network of currently none
Reason this fic is making me so nuts: I have no idea