After a brief period of popularity, it looks like MY TIME IN THE SUN IS OVER. Alas.
It was a good run while it lasted, met a lot of nice people, but now I'm stagnating in the SLOUGH OF DESPOND. The mosquitoes buzz around the corpse of my happiness, sucking it dry. Sucking it dry.
From now on, I'll FOREVER BE UNKNOWN as that guy who was that guy, maybe. There's no hope for me in this crazy world of blogs and fun. Naught but sadness awaits me in the dark corners of the Internet, where I shall turn for SOLACE IN THE ARMS OF HARM.
I shall not see the good life. The mediocre life is my burden. I want A BAD LIFE LIVED GOOD, but I will get nothing but sorrow. Sorrow, my new middle name. Dave Sorrow.
I SHALL BE AS DEIST GODS. Dead.
Misery loves company...but it doesn't have any stock options.
Oh, I'm just kidding. I'm having a wonderful time. I just thought of a bunch of cool story titles for a foray into Dark Fiction (if not horror proper) and wanted to build a post around them.
Next project? Sharia & The Gays; I'm going to start tonight.
Thus far this year, I've written and submitted a short story every 4 days, for a total of 6 with today's story. That's about 24,000 words. Pretty good, right?
Not for me. I am saddened, I am disheartened, I am annoyed with myself. If I am to be working 42 hours a week, and I should be (as I do when I'm focused) getting at least 750 words in per hour, each week I should have 32,000 words ready to go every week. There've been about three weeks, so that puts my minimum goal at 96,000 words.
I'm 72,000 words short, people. Not even HALF. Unacceptable.
I don't count words in day-to-day projects, but I should have more projects complete and out by now. I'm wasting my life.
Get a move on, Davie.
Short Story "A Blot on the Escutcheon" (Alan4) - written, submitted
Short Story "Sharia & The Gays" - written, submitted
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Reading - Myth: Writing Is Hard