Story

Feeling happier. While bathing I thought up a new angle for a story I've been working on that I think takes it to a new level. I really hope I can finish this fucker. It's been a while since I've finished a short story. This one has some potential. Then again, I've thought that about other stories of mine I've begun only to feel utter despair the morning after.

Reading Michael Crichton helps. His writing is so...simple. In a good way. It gives me hope. Crichton is one of my favorite authors because of this. Of course there's a load of research behind all his novels that I'd be too lazy to do, but still. Plus, his books read fast, which is always a bonus.

Why the hell am I writing here? I should be writing fiction, damn it. This is a delay tactic.

Off I go. I'm trying to plot out my story using notecards. Plotting usually equals death to the creative process for me, but this notecard thing is a tactic I used back when I wrote my novel-length P.O.S. back in...whenever the fuck it was. A few years back. Just writing out ideas for scenes on notecards. Maybe that'll help me stay organized, which is usually my problem; the task of writing a complex story seems daunting, overwhelming. Perhaps laying down each piece of the puzzle before me on notecards -- which allows me to rearrange, add, remove, etc. -- will act as a remedy for my admitted disorganization.

Anyhoo, off I go for real this time.