I’ve been trying to write something. I’ve been trying to write it all day long. Sometimes, I think it’s getting better, but then I get it to a point where I realize that the whole thing is fatally flawed. So I scrap what I’ve written, and start writing again. And pretty soon run into another dead end.
I’ve given up on it for now — I put it aside, and maybe I’ll never pick it up again. But somehow I do think there’s something there that’s worth saving — if only I could figure out what —
Sounds like Miller Time.
What actually happened was potato chip time — but yeah, same principle.
Put it in a good sturdy drawer. You never know. You might come back to it some day. Even just one sentence of it. I am convinced that’s how writing works. Some of it just has to age a long, long time.
Jean @ 3 — Actually, just this morning I picked it up again, looked at it, realized what was wrong with it, and redid the whole thing. Now it’s fine.