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kittydesadeNot that he said that. But it would have been funny if he had.
Wow. Just with the slacky writing I've done this year so far I'm already 4% of the way to UltraMadness completion. With my projected finishings for Nanowrimo that ought to get me to...
*quick math*
29% Hah. that was easy. Or 35% if I can actually manage to do six novels this year. Which I think I'll be able to do, the only thing that stopped me last year was the fact that both novels I was putting in slot six petered out after a while. So... somewhere I have to come up with 650,000 words worth of crap to write. Gyah. I think I can do this. I hope I can do this.
And I still need to figure out what the hell the Book of Fancy is. And what its world is. It's frustrating enough that I really want to light up a joint and just lie back and see what happens. Which is somewhat hampered by the fact that I have no idea where to get one. So instead I will lie back and listen to music and stare at the ceiling and see what happens. Or just write down a lot of things and see which of them ... uh. Ping. You know what I'm talking about.
And I need to write more short stories. More short stories, more submissions. More submissions, better odds at getting a short story published. With publication comes credits and a longer writing CV and happiness. Mmmm. Writing. And stories. And oh the stories I have to tell.
And now I'm just babbling. It's probably time to take my NyQuil, my fortifications against the plague of doom what's running around the household, and go to bed. Yeah. Definitely.
Ta.
Wow. Just with the slacky writing I've done this year so far I'm already 4% of the way to UltraMadness completion. With my projected finishings for Nanowrimo that ought to get me to...
*quick math*
29% Hah. that was easy. Or 35% if I can actually manage to do six novels this year. Which I think I'll be able to do, the only thing that stopped me last year was the fact that both novels I was putting in slot six petered out after a while. So... somewhere I have to come up with 650,000 words worth of crap to write. Gyah. I think I can do this. I hope I can do this.
And I still need to figure out what the hell the Book of Fancy is. And what its world is. It's frustrating enough that I really want to light up a joint and just lie back and see what happens. Which is somewhat hampered by the fact that I have no idea where to get one. So instead I will lie back and listen to music and stare at the ceiling and see what happens. Or just write down a lot of things and see which of them ... uh. Ping. You know what I'm talking about.
And I need to write more short stories. More short stories, more submissions. More submissions, better odds at getting a short story published. With publication comes credits and a longer writing CV and happiness. Mmmm. Writing. And stories. And oh the stories I have to tell.
And now I'm just babbling. It's probably time to take my NyQuil, my fortifications against the plague of doom what's running around the household, and go to bed. Yeah. Definitely.
Ta.
