Things are about to get all Icarus-y
So it's just past midnight, and I'm calling it quits on editing my bingo fic, because my editing decisions are questionable (at best) after midnight. They're a bit like gremlins, in that sense. At this rate, I am most definitely not going to get bingo (which is a bit of a poor showing, considering the fact that I am... the mod for the challenge *cough*.)
It's been an interesting experience overall, though, because the mere fact I was trying to get bingo meant I inadvertently maybe actually properly learned how to pump out a Shitty First Draft without doing any editing as I go. I've posted two (actually completed!) things in two weeks, and this bingo fic will (hopefully!) make it three things in three weeks. After several years of puzzling and wondering about how the everloving fuck Ray Bradbury managed to write one short story per week, I now can almost understand it.
Almost.
...but I also now cannot shake the strange, slightly uneasy feeling that things are about to get all Icarus-y.
It's been an interesting experience overall, though, because the mere fact I was trying to get bingo meant I inadvertently maybe actually properly learned how to pump out a Shitty First Draft without doing any editing as I go. I've posted two (actually completed!) things in two weeks, and this bingo fic will (hopefully!) make it three things in three weeks. After several years of puzzling and wondering about how the everloving fuck Ray Bradbury managed to write one short story per week, I now can almost understand it.
Almost.
...but I also now cannot shake the strange, slightly uneasy feeling that things are about to get all Icarus-y.