Walk with me as we take a stroll.
*holds out hand*
Nah, a journey.
Nope. A goddamn odyssey through the universe simply known as THE HOLY HELL of the UNGODLY UNKNOWN.
Or in short, the World of the Writer.
First, it’s—
*still awaits your hand as we walk the rough cobbles and dark alleys of Writersville*
Where was, oh yes, the World of the Writer is a lonely place. It’s dark. The solitude stings. No one comes to visit. No one wants to visit. Yet…
Those same people are willing to steal from said writer
GODDAMN SCANDOLOUS THIEVES!
What’s it that they take without even leaving a paltry penny?
Glad you asked. It’s TIME.
Sure, we give it without a second thought. We go here. We go there. We even go all the way over to the other side. We do this. We do that. And yes, of course, we do the other. We do it all. All the time. We don’t think about it. Then, poof. It’s gone. But not all of it. We still save some for ourselves. Not much though. Not nearly enough. It’s a meager amount. Just enough to get by. Enough to finish. Maybe. We need more. Gimmie a lot more.
MORE!
The good thing? (Yes, from all bad comes good – DUH!)
The smart writer always, always, always, and it’s a must, takes notes. AT ALL TIMES.
What’s that?
Oh yeah, my writing. Hmmmm? Guess that’s the two after the one. So, second thing…
Here’s the lowdown *looks around, makes sure no one is listening* on my current work.
7 SINS: Save My Soul: Lilith is wandering somewhere through Fucksvilletucky right now in search of, well, if I told ya that would ruin the surprise. *lets out wicked laugh* Lemme just say that she’s in search of a lot of shit and taking names.
Twisted Fate: Unreal Realities of Life: Most stories are “finished” but need editing. By most I really mean 80%.
Back off. It’s a good percent. Way better than say, I dunno, 79 or whatever. Anywho…
Like I said, needs editing so that’ll happen soon.
Wired: This is my post-apocalyptic, shoot-me-in-the-head-right-now-fuck-me-harder nightmare. Of course I say this in jest.
*shakes head. no jest at all. serious-goddamn-keep-me-up-at-night-kill-me-now nightmare*
So, funny thing. Turns out writing in the post-apoc genre is hard work. I’m not talking about the kinda work that makes you sweat at the brow then down your back into the asscrack hard work. Nope! It’s way harder. Like long math equations n’ shit.
After I bounced around, uhhh, like twenty ideas. I thought, “Well, hell. Better narrow those down to just a few.” Settled on ten. Then went to three. Then started to write one I liked. Scraped that all together because complete shittiness. Went to my very original idea, one I’ve had for over a long time and stuck to that one. Words got written. Shit got moved. White space disappeared. It was like pseudo magic except it wasn’t because magic is real.
The story flat out sucked. There were tears. Bad words were said to me about me. I took a moment to regroup. The voices in my head joined in too. We took a collective deep breath to clear or chi. It was rejoiceful. Then, then the heavens parted.
Fingers pecked away and created things that looked and sounded like real words. Words I was happy with. Now it’s just a matter of tying things together and a finished story will be set forth unto the world.
Note: all aforementioned works © copyright protected.
But if you weren’t out screwing around so much you would have that other story 100% done not just 80%. I know everyone needs to take breaks, but you take an awful lot of them, get your work done some of us want to read it, that is all!
Story is done. THAT IS ALL!