merripestin: (Default)
 I think I have slightly overdone the fizzy peach moscato, which is very nice.  I'm currently Mildly Drunk Pest.  Mildly Drunk Pest wants to lie around watching shakespeare while eating chocolate and doing elaborate braids.  No, Drunk Pest.  It is not Shakespeare and braids time.  It is antidiogenes time.

I gave the fic with the missing scenes a quite serious looking-at and then resolutely ran away from it and opened up This Fucking Zwischenzug  (all my project names end up with "this fucking" prepended sooner or later).  There are scenes in there I don't remember writing.  I am feeling much more kindly disposed towards Past Pest now. 

ETA: dreamwidth, why you no crosspost.  try again.  try better.
merripestin: (Default)
 So, the antidiogenes chat this weekend was utterly fab.  I'm more or less useless at human interaction because, well, who'd want to talk to me, but I managed to sign in both yesterday and today, and it really was very nice.  The focus was really on a 30 minute word-war every hour, after which people posted their favorite sentences (which was absolutely the best bit).

I'm trying out that thing everybody on the planet says is the Productive Way To Get Words Written, where you write a first draft at breakneck speed and don't sit there and futz with the words all the time.  

I produced 7000 words over the weekend.  I like maybe 50 of them.  

It just isn't as. . . joyful as writing in my usual way where I wriggle around in the sentences and drown in the words and play with everything forever.  On the other hand, it's less shamingly hatefully awful than sitting there staring at a blank page and producing nothing at all.  I suppose the real question is, can I actually later go back and turn any of the stuff I produced into palatable story?  

It does not particularly help that what I'm chipping away at now is an immensely long casefic with all kinds of problems, such as the need for actual plotting, and I don't know why I'm even writing it except for my lifelong devotion to the sunk cost fallacy.

Of course, with the semester heading for me at gale force, complete with one class in a format I was not prepared to teach and just found out I was doing a couple days ago, I may well disappear up grading's ass in a few weeks and not reappear until school shits me out again after finals.


merripestin: (Default)

November 2014

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