rabbitzman

Fucking hell, the new project hit me straight on, like a fucking train...

I'm letting the draft rest and I am on vacation. Cork is a weird city, I just hope I go back soon.

And, first draft done. 17977 words all in all, came out a bit shorter than I had expected. I would go through it in a few days to review it, and I am already looking for proofreaders.

Happy dance!

Head hurts, damn weather changes.
Bought clothes.
Haven't written a lot, but created a new game.
Also reading Eclipse Phase, awesome game, will run a game next week.

I am enthralled again with the novel.

Here's what I did:
My main issue with writing something as long and time consuming is that halfway through it the focus starts to shift, my ideas start to drift and suddenly, what seemed like a clever idea, turns boring and dull. It loses direction.
So, in order to not loose direction, I went and write the ending...
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Warning: I'm going to be ranting a bit.

I've been living in the same Versailles attic for over two years and a half and it still doesn't feel like home most of the time.
Things that make it feel like home:

• Guys in the Japanese restaurant downstairs know my name
• The guys at the kebab know what I want as soon as I walk in...
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Today I had a revelation.
It says right there on my profile that I am a nine-to-fiver. That's not really true. See, I do work an eight hour shift in an office, but we are a 24/7 service so we have rotating shifts. I'm on graveyard at the moment, midnight 'till 8AM, so after my shift today I hooped on a train and went downtown....
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Today's workshop really got my creative juices flowing!
Up to 12390 words and finally some questions are starting to be answered.

Feels like developing some sort of relationship, I can't stop thinking about the novel.

Funny where ideas come from, I had a conversation with my ex-fiance this morning and it got me thinking about instincts. It just so happened that those ideas were great for the novel at the moment, so it got me into a rant about the Maslow Pyramid that ended with my main narrator getting a gun pointed at his head.

Awesomest...

Nothing new on the novel front, I seem to be slacking a bit. Here's a poem instead:

This is my beast,
This is my monster.
Fueled by hatred,
Drugs and testosterone.
Soft talking, predating,
He's smiling, he's waiting.

This is my monster,
This is my passion.
These are not words,
These were my actions.
So go ahead, leave, run,
get away, while you still can....
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Milestone reached: Word count 10278.