My Brain While Writing, or, How Is Procrastination Formed

Who is this character? Is she too annoying? Too smart? Not smart enough? Plucky? Too plucky? Why is this thing happening, am I trying too hard to make it happen or is it organically happening? And if it is organic is it too predictable? If it’s unpredictable does that mean it makes absolutely no sense? What am I trying to say with this book? I know I knew before but now I can’t remember. Is this story even interesting? Will anyone want to read this? Will everyone hate this? Do I hate this?

I don’t.

I didn’t. I kind of do now. 

No, I like this. I love this. 

Why did it sound so much better in blurb form? Oh my god, am I a bad writer? I am. I’m the worst. I am a bad writer writing a bad book everyone will hate. 

Even though it has really awesome parts. 

And I really like my protagonist. 

And the imagery is pretty cool. 

Maybe I should just keep this novel safe inside my head where it will always be perfect and nobody will ever be able to write a bad review about it. 

No, that’s silly. 

Sounds nice, though. 

Maybe I should work on the cover. 

I like covers.

No, that’s also silly. I should write the damn book. 

But the book is bad. 

No, it’s the first draft. First drafts never look the way I want them to. I need to write the damn book. 

But I’m really behind on Sleepy Hollow and The Code. I should catch up. Is there a new Grey’s Anatomy out yet?

Maybe I can watch one Sleepy Hollow. One. But only because Abbie Mills is a really great reference point for awesome lady protagonists with feelings. 

And Tom Mison is really pretty. 

Okay. I’ll watch one episode, do my nails, and then write the damn book. 

It’s pretty good. I’ll be fine. 

I’ll be fine. 

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