(no subject)
The funny thing I find with writing is how at one moment you have a perfect, concise, well planned and if you don't mind being a little cocky, awesome turning point in the story with all the intrigue and character development you could hope for.
You leave it for a while perhaps RL gives you a bit of a beating, and you return to continue your exciting exploration into whatever story your working on and are suddenly drowning in insecurities about that point.
Is it too much? Is it illogical? Not believable? A bit self obsorbed? Will anyone like it? Am I taking it too far?
At this point, you are left with two options: 1, to continue, push though the insecurity and tell yourself you believe the old 'Screw everybody else's opinion, this is awesome.' as you chew your nails to the quit and find yourself pensively thinking about it at all points in the day, including the line at the coffee shop, and only just holding yourself back from turning wild eyes to the middle aged woman behind you and grasping her stylish coat and asking her "It's too much isnt it?! oh god, please tell me its not too much!"
or 2, re-write the whole bloody thing and quietly hate yourself and the resulting piece of shit you've already read a hundred times by a hundred different authors in a hundred different fandoms.
ahhh decisions.
You leave it for a while perhaps RL gives you a bit of a beating, and you return to continue your exciting exploration into whatever story your working on and are suddenly drowning in insecurities about that point.
Is it too much? Is it illogical? Not believable? A bit self obsorbed? Will anyone like it? Am I taking it too far?
At this point, you are left with two options: 1, to continue, push though the insecurity and tell yourself you believe the old 'Screw everybody else's opinion, this is awesome.' as you chew your nails to the quit and find yourself pensively thinking about it at all points in the day, including the line at the coffee shop, and only just holding yourself back from turning wild eyes to the middle aged woman behind you and grasping her stylish coat and asking her "It's too much isnt it?! oh god, please tell me its not too much!"
or 2, re-write the whole bloody thing and quietly hate yourself and the resulting piece of shit you've already read a hundred times by a hundred different authors in a hundred different fandoms.
ahhh decisions.