Running Away from the Pen

There's a song lyric I enjoy which goes ...

"Standin' on the corner
and his lips could reach the pavement
and he's been hidin' from his razor.
Is he not an awful sight?" A. Stewart , "Take Her In Your Arms."

I've been running from the pen.

I have to blow up a couple hundred pages because I've been stupid and daft. I have to fix it. Wrongly voiced, poorly plotted (not moving fast enough), and generally uninteresting beyond the premise.

The premise isn't enough. There. I admit it. The premise isn't enough.

So, I'm going to call this a "bad draft" and write the short I have in my head then come back and fix this pile of bile.

I don't like to do things I do not do well. Hardly unique in that, I know.

So, off to a little story based on the Odyssey. Bing would call it a "road picture." Bob would call it a "paycheck."

So, it is what it is. I made a big error. I pushed through and followed the section (first third) to completion and ...gasp. It stinks. The best characters are the tangential encounters. How sad is that?

If you put the razor next to your skin and the cut feels good, join the company. We enjoy hurting ourselves a little too much sometimes. Our best work comes when we're least happy.

Have a cup of loathing with me and we'll write something good now.

I shave with the lights off. Not a trick for amateurs.