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apocalypsosI've only gotten about a thousand words written today and haven't finished any more chapters.
Somebody give me a verbal shoulder massage? I need the football coach from a feel-good sports comeback movie to come to my apartment and give me an inspiring speech.
(Have I said writing is hard lately? Because oh, man, this is SO HARD. I only have, like, 45k words to go but it feels like it's so far, and it's NOT, I could get it done by the end of the month EASY, and there are at least three chapters that are more than half finished that I mostly just have to get off my ass and FINISH, except I'm distracted by shiny objects, and did I mention that I had a bad dream the other night that I got laid off and couldn't get a new job and was trying to sell my books and it wasn't working and ... okay, after that it got really hazy, it may have segued into some weird Depression-era thing where I punch Russell Crowe and shovel out the Dust Bowl, hell if I know. But it was very sad and a lot like that time Blair Waldorf dreamed she was Eliza Doolittle and Serena was ... uh, well, also Eliza Doolittle. That was a pretty confusing dream, now that I think about -- OH MY GOD DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT? *sigh*
If I finish, can I take a puppy with me to the White House?)
Somebody give me a verbal shoulder massage? I need the football coach from a feel-good sports comeback movie to come to my apartment and give me an inspiring speech.
(Have I said writing is hard lately? Because oh, man, this is SO HARD. I only have, like, 45k words to go but it feels like it's so far, and it's NOT, I could get it done by the end of the month EASY, and there are at least three chapters that are more than half finished that I mostly just have to get off my ass and FINISH, except I'm distracted by shiny objects, and did I mention that I had a bad dream the other night that I got laid off and couldn't get a new job and was trying to sell my books and it wasn't working and ... okay, after that it got really hazy, it may have segued into some weird Depression-era thing where I punch Russell Crowe and shovel out the Dust Bowl, hell if I know. But it was very sad and a lot like that time Blair Waldorf dreamed she was Eliza Doolittle and Serena was ... uh, well, also Eliza Doolittle. That was a pretty confusing dream, now that I think about -- OH MY GOD DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT? *sigh*
If I finish, can I take a puppy with me to the White House?)
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no subject
Date: 2008-11-19 06:21 am (UTC)GO YOU BIG RED FIRE ENGINE
(Seriously, that geealong has been forcing me through NaNo this year, try it)
no subject
Date: 2008-11-19 06:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-19 06:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-19 02:33 pm (UTC)(rolls up sleeves)
Okay kid. I know RL's been tough and the words are coming out like pulling teeth, but you're gonna sit down and hit that keyboard. You put in years honing your skills and now it's crunch time. You see the crap the opposition's fielding? Eragon? Twilight? Ferchrissakes you can write better than that on cheetos, Pepsi and sleep deprivation.
(pushes fedora back, chomps cigar)
Now get back in there and win one for the ficcers!