I smell of dust, old books and bluebells. God, I'm depressed. : comments.
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Too cool for subject
I have an *extremely* hard time believing your book is a big, steaming pile of stinking poo. Or a little pile. Or any poo at all.
Just a natural part of the process, yes? Natural for a person to go through spells where you just can't *tell* and where you don't much care for what you've written -- and that's just temporary reaction, not reality; needing a breathing space.
So breathe, and believe. (And I sound like an advertising agency, sheesh.) You write wonderfully -- you need and *deserve* to believe in yourself and your writing.
And man, get all that poo out of your head! It's not true poo. I totally betcha.
Aw baby...
::starts to cry::
"I have an *extremely* hard time believing your book is a big, steaming pile of stinking poo. Or a little pile. Or any poo at all."
::is blubbing helplessly::
"You write wonderfully -- you need and *deserve* to believe in yourself and your writing."
::Is starting to embarrass everyone with noisy, no-holds barred weeping::
Oh.....
I SO want to say 'screw it', but I can't. It's too important. I've put it away for today, though; I know I need a break from it. And I have fic to work on - and so do you, what are you doing, wasting time over here?
Thank you for your sage words, honey. ::hugs you::