What the hell do I know about writing horror? I don't even find it all that scary. How in the hell did I even let myself think it was good enough? All those editors just mailing it back; probably never even bothered to make it through the first page.
I don't want to wreck the story it is by rewriting it totally!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
---Whine over. Regularly scheduled blog resumes---
I'm an idiot and I know I'm an idiot. And trying to tell off your furious self for getting so bent out of shape is harder to do when the idiot drivers are out in full force. Do they even talk about not blocking an intersection in driver's ed anymore?
Red does me an enormous favor and all I can act like is an ungrateful bitch. Certainly not condoning my behavior, and she's right on the money as far as the story stands. But I just knew all I needed to do to make it better was add the scene I already did. All that red is a brutal wake-up call.
I'm not exactly freefalling, but I don't know what direction to go. It's like the B between A and C is completely shredded and must be replaced, but the replacement is going to change the direction of everything.
The thought of just filing the damn story lasted just to the walk to my car in the parking lot. I'm too stubborn. Though I am serious about if it doesn't make it in any of the horror mags this mail out time, I'm moving on to something new. There reaches a point of diminishing returns. I can't keep recycling this stuff without anything new.
Read Free!
The BookWorm
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