The fine art of avoidance

The writing class was a great idea. I’m writing drek, but I’m writing, and the only way to get to the good stuff is by telling myself that I need to turn in a story every other week and that I don’t want to be embarrassed by turning in something lackluster. So that’s a huge help. I’ve still got so many bad habits to lose, though. When you’re writing fanfic, you assume backstory and description, and it’s hard to get back into both working those in and doing it subtly.

For those of you I contacted about the novel, I haven’t forgotten, but while researching faeries was pretty straightforward (and a freaking huge thank-you to Sam for raiding the Princeton University library for Elizabethan travelogues of faeryland and Irish oral histories), researching social work turns out to be nigh impossible because A: Social workers generally have more important demands on their time than satisfying idle curiosity, and B: Laws, terminology and organizations differ so vastly from state to state that it’s hard to figure out what I’m doing right or wrong. But there are a couple of people I’m talking to, and thankfully, I only have to tear up the 15 pages I’ve written so far, and we’ll hopefully get that show on the road fairly soon.

So naturally, with all these good reasons to write, I plan to spend my weekend transcribing, sorting and winnowing the various books of quotes I’ve been scrawling down since 7th grade into a word document. In my defense, I’ve just spent almost a week really ill, and this promises not to use too much brain power, but for goodness sake, if writing makes me happy and not writing makes me unhappy, why not go sit in a Barnes and Noble cafe this weekend and just write my little heart out?


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