I’ve Been De-Programmed. Temporarily.


It’s weird not hurrying to the computer when the family goes to bed to work on my novel-in-progress. Dare I say it? I feel like a little part of me has died and I don’t know what to do with myself. I swore I’d take 2 months before I start editing the thing, but I’m finding myself fretting and fuming over how GOODHALO turned out.

Does it suck?
Is the ending bogus?
Are people going to want to read two more of these bad-boys?
Does anyone even care about clerics?
How about zombies? People still dig zombies, right?

It’s tough to say. I like it, but I might be a little biased. I’m anxious to see if my writer’s group (hi guys!) are going to get anything out of it. A couple of them have agreed to read the whole 1st draft and let me know how it goes.

At this point I should mention that I’m typically not one to let people read anything earlier than a 3rd draft, but I think it’ll be helpful for me to see if my idea and floorplan for the book is solid and it might be helpful for them to see that a 1st draft of a big stinking novel is anything but perfect.

Considering they’ve read Chapters 1-6 already, I’m pretty sure they know that.

Took the day off yesterday. I thought it would be a nice treat to sit home and not do anything. Not feel like I had a deadline looming over my head or feel the urge to be constructive with my time. So, I wasn’t. At all.

I sat down and played Resident Evil 4 on the Nintendo Wii for an embarassingly long amount of time. It’s like crack, or what I imagine crack to be like. Is crack delicious? I don’t know. I just know my game was. Delicious, I mean. Also, there were zombies (sort of) in there.

Ahem. My plan was to relax and not work on anything new for a week or two. I have a bad feeling that I’m not going to make it. I’ve got this urge to work on my next book and get IT done by the end of the year.

It’s like a sickness, yo.

So, I’ll try to keep the boring writing posts few and far between, but you may notice some action on the ANNA 2.0 bar to the right.

Sorry. It’s clamoring to get out.