R.J. Anderson (rj_anderson) wrote,
R.J. Anderson

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In the immortal words of Bill the Cat: Ack.

I did manage to write 2000 words, after all. I still feel like the whole book so far is made up of random jigsaw pieces, and every scene will need a great deal of revision, but at least I am still moving forward, albeit in a shuffling Igor-like fashion (neeeeeed braaaaaaaains).

I wish I felt happier about the whole thing, though. I think it's a potentially good story plot-wise, and I like the characters and feel that they are solid enough to carry the book. But I don't love what I'm writing. I don't get caught up in the mood and the atmosphere and write in a half-daze, the way I did when I was a teenager or in my early twenties. These days I feel that instead of soaring on the wings of a diaphanous muse, I am digging out every word with a shovel. It is not, as such, particularly Fun.

And yet I don't feel any happier about not writing, so onward I slog, and hope that somewhere along the way I will rediscover some pleasure in my own craft again.
Tags: ultraviolet, whining, writing
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