Current word count: 17,092. Fifty-two pages. Goal of a thousand words by midnight. I don't know what I'll end up doing with the rewrite, but the section I'm writing now may not finally make the cut. I'm not sure how many fantastical elements work with the story and there's the lacklustre quality of the description. I've fended off the delete impulse at least twice a day for the last week. Maybe it's an issue of point-of-view.
Either way I have to keep going: every hundred or so words keeps the Fear away. I can hear it, pacing in the hallway, going up and down the stairs; it never quite makes it to the front door and out of the Boarding House. Restless - the Fear is restless today. But so are my fingers.
Comments (6)
Honey, I know Angela Carter - and you're no Angela Carter.
Give up. Give up and go write an inane pseudo-Salinger Holden Caulfield knockoff, disinterested in life and wandering through meaningless encounters with awkward and potential unsettling sexual encounters that defy analysis. Give up and write some pseudo-autobiographical pap.
Posted by The Fear | November 27, 2006 9:27 PM
Posted on November 27, 2006 21:27
If you don't open the door, fear will probably freeze his balls off.
Posted by Christian | November 27, 2006 9:47 PM
Posted on November 27, 2006 21:47
Yeah, well, he called me fat yesterday so he's sleeping in the shower as far as I'm concerned.
Posted by ben | November 27, 2006 10:04 PM
Posted on November 27, 2006 22:04
Pfft! Those pajamas *totally* make your butt look fat.
Posted by The Fear | November 27, 2006 10:21 PM
Posted on November 27, 2006 22:21
It's like you're not even trying anymore.
Posted by ben | November 27, 2006 10:22 PM
Posted on November 27, 2006 22:22
(a chorus of bearded ladies on tip-toe)
O Fear, O Fright,
O what ideas
we bring this night!
We aspire and conspire
to inspire
with sweltering light!
(exeunt omnes)
Posted by The Musae | November 27, 2006 11:11 PM
Posted on November 27, 2006 23:11