Taking Stock
Oct. 22nd, 2004 11:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
truepennyOr: Where Are We Going, and What Am I Doing in this Handbasket?
Chapter 9 of Kekropia continues recalcitrant. I got 31 words yesterday and have absolutely no idea what the next sentence ought to look like.
Have two turnips that need to go out again (my head is bloody, but unbowed!), and a vampire poem that I need to just let GO of already. No one's going to buy a vampire poem, duckie, even if it is the only good poem you've written in fifteen years.
My brain feels like unhappy tapioca pudding, sticky and lumpy and sullen.
I'm not actually in a bad mood, despite all this. Just kind of sitting here, looking at myself and going, bemusedly, wtf?
Chapter 9 of Kekropia continues recalcitrant. I got 31 words yesterday and have absolutely no idea what the next sentence ought to look like.
Have two turnips that need to go out again (my head is bloody, but unbowed!), and a vampire poem that I need to just let GO of already. No one's going to buy a vampire poem, duckie, even if it is the only good poem you've written in fifteen years.
My brain feels like unhappy tapioca pudding, sticky and lumpy and sullen.
I'm not actually in a bad mood, despite all this. Just kind of sitting here, looking at myself and going, bemusedly, wtf?
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no subject
Date: 2004-10-22 09:48 am (UTC)My belief, so far justified, is that if you just keep putting words on paper the novel eventually shows up from wherever it's wandered off to. Then you can go back and delete all that stuff you wrote while waiting for it.