Three hundred and seventy-one words and I still feel like I'm staring. I keep saying to myself: first drafts are meant to be awkward. We're in an apartment but how that apartment fits into the world is uncertain, or which world, and msot of the bits of the apartment are blurred and descriptionless. At times uncertainy can be an immensely thrilling thing and other things you keep banging your knees into things while you stagger around and nobody's there to tell you where things are. Because they're not there, you're making it up.
Could just be that I'm having a bad day. Still, we stand in an apartment with one character and it's about time I bring in another one, somehow.
Comments (4)
There should be a large talking potted plant. A fern, or something. And there should be marijuanna jokes. Not pot jokes, that would be too obvious.
Go! Type. Make with the making of the words and sentences and stuff.
I'm going to click post now.
Posted by michael | January 15, 2007 10:24 PM
Posted on January 15, 2007 22:24
I scribbled a couple more sentences in my notebook and I'm going to attack the thing tonight. I have a better idea what the hell I'm writing about.
It -is- possible there will be a talking fern in this.
Posted by ben | January 16, 2007 7:27 AM
Posted on January 16, 2007 07:27
i miss you! i'm in fiction workshop again! AGAIN! ah! AHH! :D
A P A R T M E N T S.
AHHHH!
Posted by caroline | January 16, 2007 7:07 PM
Posted on January 16, 2007 19:07
I want to be in a fucking fiction workshop. Or I want to run one. Or. Or. or. Well, you know.
Posted by ben | January 16, 2007 7:13 PM
Posted on January 16, 2007 19:13