Total words: 13,200.
Words added tonight: 450. Well, some of them I may have nicked from another part of the book and re-distributed here.
Stopping because: I'm tired and discouraged. The scene still isn't done, but I'm stumped as to how to proceed for the moment, and I've reached a point where what I've got would probably do for the reading tomorrow.
Mood: Really, really low, but this is the time of the month when the universe is black to me. I know that. I had Rob read it, and he told me that it didn't suck, but what the hell does he know? It does so suck.
Notes: I'm still fretful about my style. Or lack thereof. I'm fretful because I'm trying to explain a fleeting mood, and I'll be damned if I can nail it right. I got up and paced a lot tonight, not my usual style. I kept ending up in the kitchen and prowling around the Doritos on the counter and snarling that I was NOT GOING TO EAT THEM.
I didn't, either, although I showed enough distressing lack of impulse control earlier in the day that I can't be smug about not caving in on the Doritos. AND THEY'RE STILL CALLING TO ME, DAMMIT.
I feel like Salieri in Amadeus, who dared to pray to God, "Make me a great composer" and then discovered how God had cruelly given him the gift of perceiving genius, but only in someone else, not in himself.
Words added tonight: 450. Well, some of them I may have nicked from another part of the book and re-distributed here.
Stopping because: I'm tired and discouraged. The scene still isn't done, but I'm stumped as to how to proceed for the moment, and I've reached a point where what I've got would probably do for the reading tomorrow.
Mood: Really, really low, but this is the time of the month when the universe is black to me. I know that. I had Rob read it, and he told me that it didn't suck, but what the hell does he know? It does so suck.
Notes: I'm still fretful about my style. Or lack thereof. I'm fretful because I'm trying to explain a fleeting mood, and I'll be damned if I can nail it right. I got up and paced a lot tonight, not my usual style. I kept ending up in the kitchen and prowling around the Doritos on the counter and snarling that I was NOT GOING TO EAT THEM.
I didn't, either, although I showed enough distressing lack of impulse control earlier in the day that I can't be smug about not caving in on the Doritos. AND THEY'RE STILL CALLING TO ME, DAMMIT.
I feel like Salieri in Amadeus, who dared to pray to God, "Make me a great composer" and then discovered how God had cruelly given him the gift of perceiving genius, but only in someone else, not in himself.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-12-03 09:42 pm (UTC)*g* it's almost like a christmas miracle :)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-12-03 09:51 pm (UTC)For what it's worth, you've written two of my very favorite books, and I look forward to the *journal* every day ... so much more so the next novel or story. And [cue eerie music] I'm not alone. I second the above.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-12-03 11:36 pm (UTC)He knows enough, apparently, to tell you it doesn't suck if he wants to keep all his various appendages in their appropriate places. ;)
On a more serious note: I'm looking at what it would take me to be a "real" writer. I figure I'm currently working 40 hours a week outside the home and putting in another four hours per day or so at home. Tack on sleeping and we're getting pretty low on hours in the day. So my question to you: how long are your glare sessions?
Also, I think I have talent for looking at the creative work of others and coming up with ways to describe how to improve it within their creative style. Which is to say, if you'd like someone to look over the Nokomis scene, I'd be pleased to do so.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-12-04 12:25 pm (UTC)Oh, wow...that so clearly represents my dilemma in creating something as well...I think it sucks, but I show it to someone else anyways, in hopes that they can help me with it or give me some ideas...and when they say it doesn't suck, it's obvious to me that they don't know what "suck" is, do they? They have no idea what it really COULD be if it didn't suck...
Ah, the high bar of self-criticism...we vault it one piece at a time...
(no subject)
Date: 2004-12-06 07:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-12-07 05:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-12-08 10:09 pm (UTC)But please don't have the heroine wake up and realize it's all been a dream. Which is what happens partway through Ira Levin's Son of Rosemary sequel to Rosemary's Baby.