I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
I have a plan. I have a story on little cards waiting to be written, but when I look at it, all I think is “BLEAGH”.
Which is pretty much my while mind set at the moment.
I just don’t care about writing. I don’t care about this whole media support services thing I’m supposed to be working on. Of course that attitude would change if I had clients, but oh well, you can’t force people to do what you want them to do.
Pretty much, pretty much (Listening to Kate Miller-Heidke’s Politics in Space)
I tried to work on this new story and I didn’t get even into 100 words in before I thought that I didn’t want to write it.
It’s a re-do of a story I began writing back in high school. I stopped writing it when I realised it was becoming a little too “Buffy” in terms of certain scenes. Don’t get me wrong, I love Joss Whedon’s work, but I’m not going to rip it off.
When I began the re-write, I got halfway through when I realised that it had become “Dollhouse” instead in a lot of ways.
That could be why I’m just not caring about writing it because if I can draw these parallels then other people, much smarter than I will also be able to.
Back to the well.