Writing Again.
Well, an idea for yet another story has popped into my head, one that's been suiting my recent mood of depression and sense of futility. I already had an idea for at least four characters in my head, and last night most of the plot line came into focus. So off I go. And this is on top of all the other stories that are still half finished or barely begun. Shees. Dammit muse! How about helping me tidy things up instead of making yet another mess?
Yeah, by now the year of writing dangerously can officially be declared a flop. There's no way I'll make 300,000 words by years end now, with a pitiful 11,000 towards that goal with less than half the year left. I suppose its mathematically possible, but I'd have to do the equivalent of a Nanowrimo every month from here on out, and this month's already more than half done. Feh.
Yeah, by now the year of writing dangerously can officially be declared a flop. There's no way I'll make 300,000 words by years end now, with a pitiful 11,000 towards that goal with less than half the year left. I suppose its mathematically possible, but I'd have to do the equivalent of a Nanowrimo every month from here on out, and this month's already more than half done. Feh.