hm. about three hours left to kill here. not sure what i'm going to do with it. maybe i'll write after all, when i finish reading this.
i get so frustrated with myself for not writing, but it's so hard to get into it, at the same time. i really need to devote an entire day to it at a time. it takes a few hours to start tuning everything else out properly. yesterday i got a scene out, and i managed to find a little focus.
the way my brain works when i write does not make a lot of sense to me. i know my beta, for instance, plans everything meticulously. i know people who write very quickly. i know people who never start stories when they don't know what they're doing and people who start with NO idea at all of what they're doing. and i'll start with an idea, but not a plan, and if everything doesn't flow as i expected it to, then i... wait. and i don't think directly about what i want to do, because doing that makes my subconscious throw up its hands in defeat. i have to leave it alone, let it ruminate undisturbed and simmer down until it's distilled whatever i was thinking about into whatever i want to say. i have ideas, and i don't know where they've come from or how they fit together until much later. this is frustrating.
i know that i am capable of making myself write. i've done it before, for one thing. but i'm nearlyincapable of it, because my distaste for doing it that way is strong enough to almost completely prevent me. i finish a whole story and don't know what it's about until i read it back over again. well, that is, if it's about anything--they always are, but sometimes the thing it's about is 'identity' and sometimes it's more like 'how likely is it that these two people would have sex.' ::cough::
okay. reading.
the cat is too cute. i think he's emitting rays or something. stop it, cat.
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