it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken

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oh, screw it.

I got nothing. I'm going to go shower and then stare at the Undertow page proofs until I figure out what the hell the crisis is, here, because I don't like anything I'm coming up with. If a hundred pages of that doesn't bore me into brilliance, I'll walk down to the grocery store to buy filo pastry and goat cheese and oyster mushrooms, and see what I've got. Three and a half miles should unstick my head, right?

This is the price I pay for a really good, fluid writing night last night, the kind where one is snickering at one's own jokes and cheering on the characters in one's head.

Today, I am still stuck on the thing I have been stuck on for days. (Of course, having just typed that, I got an Inkling. But I am going to have to Develop the Inkling, I suspect. Hell, I may even name it Inkling. So you all can larf and larf when you get to that page.)

1564 words last night, bringing us to a total of 269 pages. Also, 848 words on the essay.

412.8 miles to Rivendell.

ETA: And fifteen minutes in trhe shower, and I got the scene. La.

Eta2 And the scene is written, to the tune of 1249 words, which gives me a whopping 3661 words total on two projects, and the book standing at 274 pages. My lord, only a 125 pages or so to go.

How am I ever gonna pull this off?
Tags: jacob's ladder
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