Entry tags:
Zen and the art of writing utter rubbish...
Regular readers might have noticed that I've been a little quiet lately. That's because my boss is off work sick, so all of her duties have fallen to me, along with my own. The nice thign is, Those Above have acknowledged that and temporarily increased my pay rate to recognise this, but nonetheless, it's been a bloody steep learning curve. I'm not a manager, but right now I'm acting as one. It's very unnerving.
Anyway, as a result, not much blogging. And not much writing either, but I have now managed to finish up a first draft of a story for Close Encounters of the Urban Kind, the final version of which is due at the end of the month.
The only problem is, looking at the story now, I have the strange feeling that it's... well, kinda shite. Plus I have no idea what to call the damn thing. It's a quandary. In fact, it's more than a quandary. It's a quintary. Maybe even a hexary. I'm not sure.
So, anyone feel like taking a quick look at about three thousand words of rough first draft and telling me if my suspicions are correct? If so, please comment here with an email address and I'll send it your way. Comments are screened, so your email won't be seen by anyone but me.
Damn this writerly self-doubting tendency...
Anyway, as a result, not much blogging. And not much writing either, but I have now managed to finish up a first draft of a story for Close Encounters of the Urban Kind, the final version of which is due at the end of the month.
The only problem is, looking at the story now, I have the strange feeling that it's... well, kinda shite. Plus I have no idea what to call the damn thing. It's a quandary. In fact, it's more than a quandary. It's a quintary. Maybe even a hexary. I'm not sure.
So, anyone feel like taking a quick look at about three thousand words of rough first draft and telling me if my suspicions are correct? If so, please comment here with an email address and I'll send it your way. Comments are screened, so your email won't be seen by anyone but me.
Damn this writerly self-doubting tendency...