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

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so who wants a riot? people should be quiet. don't we give them good tv?

I wrote around 1200 words early this morning, resurrecting the dead pages. One scene came out better, I think, and the other one worse than their dead cousins, but it's a draft so that doesn't matter. I turned off all the lights and watched the snow falling and the night turned strawberry colored and wrote about the end of the world.

Yes, talking to tech support is a good way to trigger insomnia.

Also, while I was working, I was helping a certain somebody with Las Vegas factoids, as she's apparently been inspired by my bizarre fanfiction breakout to write a sequel to the piece. Which is quite good, so far, and is apparently where the plot I didn't manage to put in my bit went.

So my fanfiction is spawning... fanfiction. How exceedingly too meta for words. I plan to demand cowriter credit, even though she's doing all the real work. I'm just providing Not-Very-Random-In-Fact-Careful-Calculated Las Vegas Spree Killing Factoids and writing occasional blocks of exposition and poker.

(Not saying who, yet, because I'm not sure how she wants to be identified. *g* But she writes really good supergenius hypochondria.

See what happens when pro writers go bad? It's like... cascading failures. Pretty soon there will be room for a whole new crop of SFF writers, because all the current ones will be off writing Smeagol/Gollum or Clark/Supes and giggling between their fingers.)

In any case, watch this space for further developments.

Anyway, it was good, because it means I get up this morning and can start from where I would have started anyway. And if it's on two hours of sleep, well, it's not the first time.

Today I will sit here at my desk and I will write the rest of Chapter 26. And then I will write Chapter 27. And then I will be done with the draft. Either today or tomorrow or Wednesday.

Expect more random blogging at the high water marks.

Now I need to write another damned transition. But first I'm going to wash my hair and find something to eat, since I've been ravenous since I got off the phone with tech support last night at 1:30 in the morning and that was seven hours ago now.

Whups, gotta run. The telephone is circular metal banding.
Tags: dance like a spaz, fanfiction, jacob's ladder, the sound of one faucet dripping
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