Chug-chug-chug…and that’s ala The Little Engine That Could and not Frat Boy.
This story is kicking my ass and taking names.
In one sense, it’s fun to do a new story in this manner, of actually setting a goal and attempting to make it. There is about a week left of August…this story isn’t going to be done. Goal not necessarily achieved, but I’m still working on it.
I haven’t given up. Yet.
But this story is NOT the fun fluff that I thought it would be, and it’s bringing forth a lot more than I bargained for, and coloring my life in ways I never thought possible. And it’s not all positive.
My OCD, and lack of finishing many other projects, is keeping me going. I have finished two actual full-length stories, but only one of them has gotten edited and rewritten many times.
I just wanted to be better than the story that spurred on this particular challenge. This story is traumatic, and traumatizing, and there’s way less humor in this one than most others.
I wonder if this one is contributing to my stress factor.
Yeah, it probably is.
Oh, well. At least I’m writing. Or something.
Tonight, I got Chapter Two put together and fleshed out, and part of Chapter Three. Now I’m to a hard place where I have a large chunk of blank white space that I have to fill in, but I have NO idea what to write. I’d better figure it out, though.