Since I'm such a sucker for forced creativity, I've gotten myself into an even messier situation this weekend. I'm competing in the 3-Day Novel Contest on a relative whim, which was maybe not the brightest idea considering I got a new guitar this week (pics to come) and didn't really have an idea until last night. Granted, the latter may work out for me, as I won't be quite so attached to any literary destination and will be more flexible as a result. So think encouraging thoughts for me this weekend, and enjoy your day off because I'll probably be pulling my hair out and resisting the urge to drown in highballs by that point.
Anyway, this is different from National Novel Writing Month (which I rocked last year and plan to do again this year) in that your work is actually submitted and judged, so I have to bring the story to completion this time around. And lucky me, I've got a cheap backup plan should it come to it. Not that it will, as we all know I'm a friggin' pro when it comes to pacing and not procrastinating.
Wait, I'm thinking of the guy that won the gold for the Olympic Marathon. Crap.
It was a dark and stormy night,
Regis
1 comment:
Jesus sees you abusing your muse, and he's not amused.
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