How the hell are you, flist? Due to a series of circumstances, I am sitting at the house, alone and sort of bored, having drunk a whole bottle of white wine (in my defense... I have no defense. It needed drinking so I drank it), overthinking this little D/s PWP I've been trying to write all evening (really, I'm trying not to use the word "metonym"
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I am okay, thank you for asking.
I'm pretty bored, but I feel full of purpose because I am downloading as much fanfic as possible to my ipod to read later.
I think this is how most women are supposed to feel about shoes. Gluttonous, compulsive, and unable to stop looking for more.
Do you find it difficult to write "realistic" fiction with your (impressive) vocabulary? When you write, is it more important to find the right word, or the right word for the character/situation? How does audience affect this process?
Were those good enough questions to relieve your boredom? (you would not believe the drunken typos I've been making. My contacts are so dry they are about to fall out, but still the siren song of the internet calls. . .)
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If that makes sense.
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I will cry with you when you are sad, squee with you when you are squee, and apparently we can be bored together too. I'm trying to write McShep and it's not actually going that bad.
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Good luck; I am hearting your Weir/Caldwell things, though I don't do much het.
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