It wasn’t supposed to be such an ordeal. I thought, “Hey, why don’t I finish that story I was writing?” and thoughtlessly threw myself into the fray.
I guess I panicked, because on the weekend I couldn’t put words on paper (or the screen for that matter). The Ready Or Not crowd brainstormed some excellent ideas on Sunday night, but to no avail. Last night, I packed it in. Seaton’s Journal was officially dead and buried.
Wow. What a relief to just give up. I went to sleep happy and relaxed, having been released from the chains of my hideous creation.
Until this morning, when I realized what the story was really about. The plot’s on life-support for now, but I think it stands a chance of pulling through. If it survives the next week or two, I’ll keep going. If not, there’s a recycle bin eyeing those files hungrily.