Resolutions
Everyone else is making their resolutions, so I’ll introduce you to some of mine. Other than the old standards of “lose weight” and “stop biting fingernails” and the new addition of “get a job”, the rest of writing-related.
- Finish Lionheart draft by end of March.
- Finish The Circled Green draft by end of September.
- Write 20 000 more words for the Bones draft
- (In order to complete the previous goals) write a minimum of 10 000 words a month.
A Peek Into The Brain
I am one of whose brain is constantly working; it’s constantly throwing up new ideas, and I am constantly going, “Damnit, not again!”. Rebekah and JK accuse me of stealing all the ideas in the country. They make me laugh; they’re good like that. They’re also very good at picking me up when I am having a down day and ask the dreaded question of “do you think I am a good writer?”
A Real Confidence Boost
As my writing friends/betas know, I am paranoid about the possibility that I am a bad writer. Every so often I swing about and along comes the “Do you think I can write well?” question (followed by “And you’re not just saying that because you are my friend, right?” one). I’m sure we all have that moment, that horrible “should I just stop now?” train of thought.
Sometimes you just need a confidence booster. And today I got one.
It’s The End of NaNo As I Know It
It’s the end of NaNo, or, well, pretty much. It’s 4.15pm here on the 30th, and I have Guides tonight.
As you can sort of tell, I didn’t win NaNo. I started off pretty good, actually being about a day ahead. And then I had camp, and that meant I lost about four/five days of writing time. I had a second overnight camp (but that still equals two lost days when you factor in prep-time and “oh gawd I am tired *snores” the day after) and then I got sick a little while after. So I kinda gave up, and
Remember What You Did To Sorcha!
I thought it might be time for another snippet of The Circled Green, and after much thought I decided to introduce you to not Aurora, but her father. Aurora will come soon, I promise.
The simple of act of stepping into the graveyard made the world seem greyer. It was not the stone walls of the church that did it, nor was it the stones that marked the graves of so many lost loved ones – although both of these things did assist the feeling, surely. It was just that there was a feeling of greyness to the world, that
