i sorted out my messy story that i sorta kinda completed last weekend. parts of it were okay and others were absolute shit. i don’t know what i was thinking when i wrote some of those words. and that is the process. back and forth, back and forth, advancing slowly to story’s end. it occurs to me that i have no fucking idea what i’m doing.
i spent last evening thinking about how to conclude my story. that’s hard work. thinking about what the story is about. what the unreliable, unnamed narrator is able to share, what his regrets are. digging down into the story. in the middle of the night, i jotted down a final paragraph and it feels about right for the moment. my reader will provide feedback next week and that’s a good thing.
what do you do when you’re tired?