I wanna be a paperback writer
I am not happy with the universe right now. I am, in fact, decidedly pissed off at the universe at the moment. I'll get over it, certainly, but....just....grrrrrrrrr.
So here's what happened, I started writing a post about a couple of my dreams last night, which were decidedly strange, and a little funny, and very, well, cinematic, if you will, when I realized that I could deviate from the plot of my dream, and actually write a story, and what's more, that this character that I played in my dream had a voice, and she wanted to talk. And so I wrote.
My mind was absolutely flooded with ideas, and places this story could go, and I was inside her head, and I was writing fiction, and it wasn't awful, and I was feeling very proud of myself and accomplished when I realized I had written a number of pages, and was only just beginning, and I thought to myself that if it continued to be this easy, if the character continued to write the story for me, I could actually write a book this way, and I was happy with that thought.
Then Word crashed on my computer, and it was lost. I'm feeling rather dejected about the whole thing now, and despite my previous optimism, despite the fact that 2 hours ago I envisioned hundreds of pages yet to come, I can't imagine attempting to re-write what I've already written, so I probably won't, thus ending my novel writing career within 6 hours of starting it.
I suppose it would have been awful anyway, and really I just saved myself thousands of hours spent typing.
So here's what happened, I started writing a post about a couple of my dreams last night, which were decidedly strange, and a little funny, and very, well, cinematic, if you will, when I realized that I could deviate from the plot of my dream, and actually write a story, and what's more, that this character that I played in my dream had a voice, and she wanted to talk. And so I wrote.
My mind was absolutely flooded with ideas, and places this story could go, and I was inside her head, and I was writing fiction, and it wasn't awful, and I was feeling very proud of myself and accomplished when I realized I had written a number of pages, and was only just beginning, and I thought to myself that if it continued to be this easy, if the character continued to write the story for me, I could actually write a book this way, and I was happy with that thought.
Then Word crashed on my computer, and it was lost. I'm feeling rather dejected about the whole thing now, and despite my previous optimism, despite the fact that 2 hours ago I envisioned hundreds of pages yet to come, I can't imagine attempting to re-write what I've already written, so I probably won't, thus ending my novel writing career within 6 hours of starting it.
I suppose it would have been awful anyway, and really I just saved myself thousands of hours spent typing.