Augh, not more words!
Nov. 6th, 2013 06:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dotsandlinesI'm doing a fake-Nanowrimo thing, in which I attempt to write at a Nano pace (1667 words a day) on a pre-existing project. My new goal is to finish this story with which I've been playing for the last few years, so that I can, I dunno, edit it, write something else, move on with my life? Seems like a thing to do.
It's exhausting. Exhausting! I resorted to whiting out all of the text as soon as I finish a scene, so that I don't worry about it till this project is over. I suspect a lot of it sucks. Not going back, except to add paragraphs here and there. Still exhausting.
It's working OK - I'm still on pace, though I've been slowing down - but my brain is just bruised.
Social life is also exhausting, even though there isn't much of it. Sick of being a seat-warmer, someone that people hang around until someone more interesting shows up. Blech. May your seats be ever frosty. I want to tell myself that I deserve better than this.
Should stop reading the book I'm currently reading, because it is guess what?! Yep. It should be savored like a fine, nostalgia-laden, deeply awkward wine instead of feeding into my current anxiety. But it's adorable and sweet and sad and I recommend it anyway. (I'm only ~halfway through, but still.)
...oh, and 21st century farce: my dad joined Facebook, so I can't say much of anything there anymore. Ha.
It's exhausting. Exhausting! I resorted to whiting out all of the text as soon as I finish a scene, so that I don't worry about it till this project is over. I suspect a lot of it sucks. Not going back, except to add paragraphs here and there. Still exhausting.
It's working OK - I'm still on pace, though I've been slowing down - but my brain is just bruised.
Social life is also exhausting, even though there isn't much of it. Sick of being a seat-warmer, someone that people hang around until someone more interesting shows up. Blech. May your seats be ever frosty. I want to tell myself that I deserve better than this.
Should stop reading the book I'm currently reading, because it is guess what?! Yep. It should be savored like a fine, nostalgia-laden, deeply awkward wine instead of feeding into my current anxiety. But it's adorable and sweet and sad and I recommend it anyway. (I'm only ~halfway through, but still.)
...oh, and 21st century farce: my dad joined Facebook, so I can't say much of anything there anymore. Ha.
