November 27th, 2008



I wrote 764 words Tuesday night. It's the first bit of fiction writing I've tried in quite a while.

It's all tripe.

I don't normally come away from something I've written thinking it's crap. Rough, simplistic, needs work maybe, but not rubbish. I can see the gleam of the ideas and people, I just need to polish them. This was a turd.

What makes it especially interesting and frustrating is that I had this entire first bit in my head, and knew it worked, and what went down on the page wasn't what was in my head. Even now, I have it in my head, and I don't know how what came out on the page got there. Even as I typed it, I knew I wasn't saying what I wanted to. Never had that trouble before. Oh I may not have the exact words, I may not have captured the feeling I was going for, but I was usually at least in the right general area.

On the plus side, I don't think there's any random words or sentences, which was a big problem for a while after the stroke. And my spelling has gone to hell, but it's not like my spelling was brilliant to start.

Interesting to try and start again, but the new issues are disheartening. Oh well, I can but try.