Good

The word 'Good', I hate it. It makes me want to scream.

Letting someone read your story is hard enough, they might not like it, they might think it needs work, but the worst response I could ever receive is that it's GOOD. People don't even know what it is exactly that makes it good, if you look up the definition...this is what you find. Definition of Good I'm trying to write something that invokes more than "It's good, I like it". I want them to talk to me about the characters, what they imagine and what they think the work is lacking. I want feedback so I can improve not have my ego mildly confused. I'm not writing to be told I'm good at it.

What am I writing?

I appreciate if anyone reads it, I imagine it can sometimes be quite painful. That's it.

Incorrigible Indecision

It's been a long time, so long that I've forgot how to use blogger, or maybe it's changed and I can't remember what it used to be like?
Anyway I'm determined to maintain my blog this time, a new name, a new picture, a new focus.

I'm so EXCITED!

I've been dealing with writer's block for the past year, hopefully rambling on about nonsense will help relieve some stress and dissolve my mental block for good, or at least a little while. My novel is currently in its third draft but it's not had much in way of progress in the last couple of months, I've been gaming and reading and focusing on whatever else is around to distract me.

Sitting watching Adventure Time all day doesn't help.

I've realised writing has started to feel like work, that might be the core problem, if I have no joy in what I'm writing my self-motivation hits rock bottom. Hence why I'm working on a new concept, but as usual my incorrigible indecision makes settling even on a characters name difficult. I'm also to busy comparing it to previous work and foolishly concentrating on the silly little details that don't matter if they happen to be repeated. Of course the main issue I have with writing is my lack of confidence, I criticise the most minute thing and obsess over it. I fear I'm a poor writer with a dull imagination, that my execution of the English language is shameful and illustrates about as much as a wet sponge.

Then some days I pull the stick out of my arse and give myself a slap with it. I tell myself to suck it up and stop being so self-destructive, it's unattractive and exhausting. I have to remember I'm not arrogant enough to believe I'm brilliant but I'm not shockingly abysmal  either, there is probably many manuscripts published that are as misguided as mine. I'm happy to be average but I endeavour to be a little above average.

I'm so full of myself.

This is where I start to worry I've admitted to much, so that's enough for today I think.