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Three nights with hardly any sleep. Out of practise at that. I feel floaty, detached. I can't write and everything I have written looks...can't think of a bad enough word (yes, I mean my Angel/Wes, yes, I mean my slashfic). I know they're not that bad but today I just can't read them without cringing and wanting to hit delete. Which I won't. Because if I sleep they'll magically seem fine again. I'm looking at phrases and feeling my lips pull back from my teeth as I grimace.
Totally stuck on my Angel Book of Days story. Can't think of an angle (heh) at all. It's something so new and tricky that I'm poking at it cautiously to see if it twitches. Gentle little pokes of course.
Checked my ff.net stats for the first time in ages. I have made it on to fifty people's favourite author lists. That's nice (round number! Yay!)and odd at the same time. Most of them I don't know and they never leave feedback so why? Some I do know and they do ::hugs them::
I spoke to my brother last night. He emigrated to Australia, what, 13 years ago? haven't seen him since. He's come back to the UK once but by then I'd gone to Canada. We've exchanged letters, photos, phone calls, emails over the years but I don't know him anymore. He's not part of my life now, probably never will be again. But blood links you; still my baby brother, still love him. Just don't know him.
I think my head is going to make friends with the keyboard and I'll wake up with a cabalistic message imprinted on my cheek.
Coffee. Fizzy wine gum. Must wake up until it's bed time.
Totally stuck on my Angel Book of Days story. Can't think of an angle (heh) at all. It's something so new and tricky that I'm poking at it cautiously to see if it twitches. Gentle little pokes of course.
Checked my ff.net stats for the first time in ages. I have made it on to fifty people's favourite author lists. That's nice (round number! Yay!)and odd at the same time. Most of them I don't know and they never leave feedback so why? Some I do know and they do ::hugs them::
I spoke to my brother last night. He emigrated to Australia, what, 13 years ago? haven't seen him since. He's come back to the UK once but by then I'd gone to Canada. We've exchanged letters, photos, phone calls, emails over the years but I don't know him anymore. He's not part of my life now, probably never will be again. But blood links you; still my baby brother, still love him. Just don't know him.
I think my head is going to make friends with the keyboard and I'll wake up with a cabalistic message imprinted on my cheek.
Coffee. Fizzy wine gum. Must wake up until it's bed time.