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Am freezing today, dunno why.
Woke 4am. Cat, who had been snuggling me, crawled out of my arms and went
over and settled herself smugly in Dude’s arms, waking him up so that he
would pet her. Both of us were awake. I called her a traitor. She purred at
me. I didn’t really mind, it meant I could roll over and put my arm back
into the socket. The way she really likes to sleep on my arm tends to
sublux the shoulder joint….
I couldn’t get back to sleep. I’d gone to bed with my phone within reach,
which I rarely do, but I picked it up and looked at it, which I don’t
usually, and then that was the end of being asleep.
I got up and somehow managed to only be half an hour early for work…
Yesterday was kind of a hard day. I’ve been in a weird state of distress
about trying to write the next bit of my Ongoing Saga, because there’s got
to be actual consistency with earlier pieces. Given that I am a compulsive
pantser, and never ever ever write to an outline, this is extremely
stressful, because I only had a vague plan going into this, and now am
faced with trying to line up some earlier parts which let’s just say were
not exactly precision-machined. Obviously, obviously what I had to do was
reread my own shit, and I was weirdly resistant to the idea, but yesterday
I forced myself to crack into it and–
Well I reread most of the Trust series, and I was getting into it when the
author’s note on the last chapter of Very Dark Magic kind of smacked me
into the face. I’d been kind of cringing waiting for it but yeah I posted
that chapter the day Dad died so.
There’s a reason I’ve mostly forgotten most of the details of those stories.
(I am meaning to go through my notifs and thank everyone and collect all
the wonderful things y’all pointed out I should get illustrated, but
that’s– some of you seem to think it’s misguided modesty on my part that I
don’t think I wrote anything interesting, and that’s not it! It’s that much
of last year, and especially the end of it and beginning of this one, is
enshrouded in a gray mist and I can’t actually remember it very well, and
that goes like, quadruple for shit I wrote, so when i say I can’t think of
anything to illustrate it’s because I genuinely can’t remember those
stories and this is why. It’s not like I can’t remember them, it’s that
they’re like– thru a mirror dimly kinda.)
(sigh, some part of me is resisting going through those notes. Probably the
same part that didn’t want to go back through the stories. B you need to do
that, if you’re going to continue. You just have to. That’s how this works.
Chin up.)
A word to the wise: Don’t write long series, without a plan. Don’t write
things so long it will take you an entire day skimming at your best speed
to review it. It’s a pain in the ass. And I’m so fucking sad now.
I had a bad moment around chapter 6 of Dusty Corridors, where I have a
minor character have an opportunity to comment on something that in the
sequel I’m writing she really ought to have very strong opinions on and
information about by what I’m pretty sure is this point in the timeline,
and she instead gives a blank diplomatic answer. Which won’t do, that won’t
do at all– unless– ah, unless she’s playing her cards close to her chest?
That could work? She needs to know about the thing by now, but– she’s not
the POV character, it’s perfectly likely the POV character won’t pick up on
whether she’s telling the truth or not!
so that might work. Maybe.
but I’m just so fucking sad now. No, I’d better keep working, or I’ll
forget and need to put myself through rereading all of that again. It’s a
bummer because it would be a good comfort read with a bit more distance.
Maybe in a few more years I can come back and appreciate it the way I
obviously meant it.
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