I’ve been sitting here since about a quarter to five, and I’ve done a grand total of 136 words. I’m tired. I want to sleep, I want to put my feet up and not think about anything, I want to do anything but what I’m doing. Is there anything wrong with the story? No. I really don’t think so. What I think is wrong is that I have done over 80,000 words in about a month and a half of what is very close to finished draft, on a book that I’ve already written much of and then dumped twice before, and I’m goddamned weary. I want to work on a different story, and different characters, and different problems, and before I can do any of that, I have to get through to the end of this.
And promptly, please, since this is due. I think a good kick in the ass to get me going might be called for. So … :: KICK! …
Maybe that will help. In any case, enough of the whining.
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