Yesterday, I had lost all hope that I was a decent writer, that my works were rubbish, and that I'd wasted my whole April writing a novel that was never going to get anywhere (and featured flat, uninteresting characters). I was wallowing in despair and bordering depression because I swore I'd never be famous by trying hard.
Today, I just about peed myself writing the climax because it was so intense. I think I cried a little because 1) the climax isn't done yet and 2) it's just so ding dong darn danged SAD. My characters are suddenly uber-dynamic because the villain and the MC have a past but it takes a cliche and turns it wildly on its head with some graphic domestic violence.
Yeaaaah. Welcome to the life of a writer.
~Silvermist
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