(no subject)
Fuck. I don't know if I like what I'm writing anymore. I spent so much time on the leadup to the ultimate predicament these poor buggers find themselves in that I'm at 7,000 words before they even start getting sick (which is, in a very real way, what the story is about). If I don't truncate some of the action and the details then it's never going to end, but I'm not sure that in truncating the little stuff and time lapsing quite a lot I'm keeping the story interesting enough!
ARGHMUTHERFUCKIT.
Written ~ 1,500 words today. Not quite the 3,000-word pencilmolester writing day that yesterday was, but adequate.
I'm filled with self-doubt over it, though. Is it too long and detailed up to this point? Not detailed enough? Am I going to bore the fuck out of everyone who reads it? Why am I seemingly incapable of writing anything that isn't a billion words long?
ARGHMUTHERFUCKIT.
Written ~ 1,500 words today. Not quite the 3,000-word pencilmolester writing day that yesterday was, but adequate.
I'm filled with self-doubt over it, though. Is it too long and detailed up to this point? Not detailed enough? Am I going to bore the fuck out of everyone who reads it? Why am I seemingly incapable of writing anything that isn't a billion words long?