Wanted: Editor · 12:29pm Mar 6th, 2013
Angstposting. Angrily, I glare at my keyboard for the umpteenth time this week, and wonder if my deep, glowering self-hatred of the way I write would just fix itself if I picked up a pen and paper instead.
It doesn't. I grab a pen, and try to summon forth the creativity I can see in the work of others. A punishing lack of words is something that's been traditionally beyond my grasp at various points throughout my life, and now it's manifested itself again. This time, it's in the form of an auburn earth pony stallion, who glares at me every time I leave my desk at midnight without having written anything.
He may or may not be a doctor married to another doctor.
Whatever. I curl up in my bed and go to sleep. I'll write tomorrow.
But it doesn't work. It is not flowing. It - the words - are most certainly not flowing. Whatever cleverness that seems to fog my head like an unusual halo at all other times utterly fails me, and all I can seem to do is talk about eyes. And then I get really fucking cross and write very angry letters containing several swear words to incredible authors demanding to know how they do things as they do.
Mercifully, they have the good decency to reply to my arrogance in a manner that is both accommodating and polite.
But regardless. I am still rather cross (pissed off for my lovely American friends) and I am still word-crossed. I cannot write on no sleep, and I cannot sleep without writing, and in the middle of this bullshit I have to work. Moab is my washpot.
So, before I go insane, I would like to announce two very lovely things.
One is that I go back to university on Monday. For those of you who are recent watches and expect me to update things on a regular basis, this is good. For those of you who are used to my slowness, then congratulations, you're getting speedier updates.
This return to the old Alma Mater for my completion is good for several reasons.
(1). I will be losing this summer job that goes from 6:00AM to 5:30PM on weekdays. I come home tired, fall onto my bed, sleep for an hour and a half, get up, have dinner, and go back to bed. I spent all day dreaming about what I'm going to write, and aren't able to in the evening, because:
a). I don't remember what I dreamed of during my dull, dull job
b). I never have time to sit down and pat out my ideas, which means they are often, at best, a series of guided snapshots of what I'd like.
(2). I will have more access to my desktop. (And the university desktops, too).
Planning is a mess, as is any progress on my stories. New chapter of Sherclop Pones needs proofreading, as does the newest thang of The Golden Rule.
I also suck at proofreading my own work. What I really need is an editor who will help me do this so I don't have to worry as much about correcting myself as I write. I mean, I can just edit it all after, and creative input from other people is so goddamn excellent, so much so that I'm really starting to need it as opposed to want it.
So I need that, and also a good kick up the arse. If you're interested in either of these things, or a good writing companion, flick me a letter.
But for now, I just can't fucking do it. No progress on anything major. Just oneshots. There's no words on it, I can't do it. There's no words there!
SO FUCK IT!
WE'LL DO IT LIVE.
I'LL WRITE IT, AND WE'LL DO IT LIVE!
FUCKIN THING SUCKS
YEAH! DOIN IT LIVE!
WOO!
I cant offer my services right now, but in a few months, when I get out of bootcamp, I will gladly pre/proof read The Golden Rule for you.
I know them feels, bro. I really do.
Well, not the college part, at least not yet. I get to start that oh-so-joyous (sarcasm...sorta...) experience in a few months.
I'd offer to proofread, but I don't think that'd be a wise move on your part or mine. My motivation and muse are both fickle SOBs with a penchant for abandoning me when I need them the most. Also...seriously, your writing is waaaaay outta my league. Like, we're not even in the same frickin' galaxy, so I'm pretty sure I'd just be detrimental to the situation anyway.