It is currently 1:42 am Friday morning. Usually, I’d post fiction friday about 8 or 9 hours from now. But this next part… the one I had already written 4 times when I posted about it on Monday… well… I’m on version 7 now. And I’m still not happy with it. Or any previous version. I’m still so disappointed with every damn word I write.
I tried casting my laptop aside and writing with pen and paper. That was version 6. No peeking at any previous versions… just writing as though it was the first time. I don’t know that it was any better. Maybe it doesn’t matter if it’s better or not — I’m so disgusted with my writing right now that it’s going to be crap to me no matter what. And I don’t want to post something and then regret it.
I think I could write the words if I knew what I wanted to say. But I can’t even get that straight. I’m going in too many different directions… with no destinations.
I’m growing concerned that I’m never going to be able to finish this story. But I’ve left you hanging. (And by ‘you’, of course, I mean those of you reading it… those of you who are even remotely invested in the story.) I want to finish it… but it’s just not working. It feels like it’s never going to work. It’s not even just this next part… It’s the ending, too. I don’t know where I got lost… but I am lost.
So… I’ve written this whole post to tell you that I have no idea if I’m going to be able to post fiction friday today. I need to get some sleep. I’m hoping it’s exhaustion and not pure insanity that made me cry over this tonight. I just can’t write it. I know I’m fucking ridiculous. It’s just a stupid story.
©2017 what sandra thinks