The novel continues to be a huge thorn in my side.
I honestly haven’t worked on it since mid-November. For good reason, granted. We recently (and suddenly) got a new apartment, and then got married, all in the same four-week period. None the less, I need to get back at it.
My lady-wife recently offered to beta-read what I’ve already written, and I honestly felt sick at the thought. I feel like everything I’ve written, no matter how important it is in the day-to-day life of my character, is just… desperately boring to an actual reader. I don’t have a clue how to make my MC messed up enough to not trust anyone and feel like everyone is going to abandon her when the chips are down while still making her socially-able enough to make friends in the first place, and interesting enough (as opposed to neurotic enough) for readers – or even ME – to find her relatable?
I know it’s possible. There’s a hell of a lot of actual humans living that exact situation right now. I’ve spent a lot of my own life being one of them.
Anyway. So that’s the current mess I’m in with The Novel.
That said, I’m not working on The Novel right now. Instead, I’m writing to deadline and working on a piece of charity porn (er… porn written for a charity anthology, just to clarify. It’s pagan leatherdyke porn in terms of content), with plans to try scribbling down some snow-queen inspired queer-pagan flash fiction – or maybe poetry – as well. (I’ve decided to try submitting something to Hyacinth Noir because, well, why the hell not?) But I have to write it first.