Current word count: 45,575
Working on the story has become just that–work. Well, if I particpate in next year’s event, and I’m seriously doubting I will, I’ll know I need to choose a story that has a certain sweep to it, so I can start out with a big canvas and scale down if I need to.
This year I started with a tiny canvas and filled it pretty quickly. It has been rather discouraging.
Tonight, though, I’ve done some actual writing, rather than re-writing, and it went well. This was pretty surprising. I was pretty sure the story hated me, so I was glad to have some cooperation. It was nice. Some good stuff popped out. Thank you, story.
Finished “Sugar, A Little Snow Fairy” and I was prepared for a knock-down, drag-out tear-fest. So it didn’t affect me that much. Less than I expected, to be honest. I was expecting to be devestated because, if I may borrow the phrase, I am a cupcake.
Everyone did well, and yes, Greta did the right thing in her own way. As I always knew she would. And we got a pretty good glimpse of Sugar’s mommy.
And like Saga, I waited until Sugar was happy before I cried my damned eyes out.
I am such a cupcake, it isn’t even funny. Actually, though, on reflection, I guess I’m a waffo.
Oh, I should note. Still sick. Physically. Mentally, I don’t think there’s any hope.