Seriously, I thought I'd lost my pair of jade-colored glasses, but oh no, here they are again and I'm looking at my WIP through a jade tint...Not good, folks, not good at all. There are three reasons why I'm fretting right now:
1.) So now that my semester is over and I merely spent 10 hours a day at work, I should have more time to sit down, get my ass into gear and write this thing, right? No. Because in the ever-changing life of Dys I've had the questionably brilliant idea to move again. Don't get me wrong, I love to move to new places, am practically a nomad as is, but this whole moving business seriously is distracting me from writing. Meaning that between painting, moving furniture and living in total chaos I'm probably not going to make my self-imposed deadline at the end of May. I know, it really doesn't matter and shouldn't upset me, but it does. Blame chronic neuroses and irrationality.
2.) Superglued at my heels the question: Does this whole book make sense? Will readers be sympathetic towards protagonist A or merely think he's a stubborn, stupid idiot and I'm completely failing at creating sympathy/affection for this character?
Which in turn brings us to
3.) Who the fuck am I kidding? The execution of this book is less than poor, characterization and plot are sketchy, either leaving out or dumping backstory onto the reader. Chapters flow poorly and let's not even talk about the nightmare of transitions.
Bottom line: This sucks.
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