(no subject)
It's been a long damn two days. Between capoeira and then working a normalish day but having come home and done a bunch of household chores after and basically I haven't stopped moving since yesterday morning and didn't get enough sleep and I am so damn tired. I almost fell asleep over my desk. Which would have been bad since I was labeling a bunch of pointy stabby clay tools.
But at this point I'm running on boxes of nerds to stay awake long enough to finish things and get to sleep and do the nightly reminders and ugh. I should buy things off and go to bed early if I can't.
I'm also having one of those moments where I look at Turing Shrugged and think, how arrogant am I that I can decide this novel is ready for publication when a small press publishing house didn't want it? It's a stupid weasel. I had already pushed to get it to the point where I felt comfortable giving it to someone as here-it-is-a-novel whether for submission or publication or whatever. And I have a second run-through in the works just to make sure Editrix and I aren't wrong. And I have vague plans to share it around with a circle of beta readers too? So yes, self, you are not passing off a half-assed product as a finished novel, you have done your duty. So that weasel can just go piss up a rope.
I bet I know where it comes from, is I'm reading over Long Road and cringing at large chunks of it and wondering where the hell all this pretentious writing came from, especially in this book. And if I could misjudge that so hard etc etc. But I already did feel dubious about Long Road, have for every damn draft, and this one is starting off promising so I'm hopeful that it won't end up being another draft for the bin (draft four! heh) so this is not an arrogance problem. This is the luck of Turing Shrugged came out, inexplicably, mostly right. So there.
Besides, Starlight is finishing up with its second draft and I can already tell it's going to need either heavy editing so it might as well be a third draft or an entire third draft. Blergh.
Oh well. I'm still mostly on course with all my writing crap, and I can work on THAT tomorrow. After, I hope, a good night's sleep.
But at this point I'm running on boxes of nerds to stay awake long enough to finish things and get to sleep and do the nightly reminders and ugh. I should buy things off and go to bed early if I can't.
I'm also having one of those moments where I look at Turing Shrugged and think, how arrogant am I that I can decide this novel is ready for publication when a small press publishing house didn't want it? It's a stupid weasel. I had already pushed to get it to the point where I felt comfortable giving it to someone as here-it-is-a-novel whether for submission or publication or whatever. And I have a second run-through in the works just to make sure Editrix and I aren't wrong. And I have vague plans to share it around with a circle of beta readers too? So yes, self, you are not passing off a half-assed product as a finished novel, you have done your duty. So that weasel can just go piss up a rope.
I bet I know where it comes from, is I'm reading over Long Road and cringing at large chunks of it and wondering where the hell all this pretentious writing came from, especially in this book. And if I could misjudge that so hard etc etc. But I already did feel dubious about Long Road, have for every damn draft, and this one is starting off promising so I'm hopeful that it won't end up being another draft for the bin (draft four! heh) so this is not an arrogance problem. This is the luck of Turing Shrugged came out, inexplicably, mostly right. So there.
Besides, Starlight is finishing up with its second draft and I can already tell it's going to need either heavy editing so it might as well be a third draft or an entire third draft. Blergh.
Oh well. I'm still mostly on course with all my writing crap, and I can work on THAT tomorrow. After, I hope, a good night's sleep.