It’s all over but the grading. Which must be done by Thursday.
As for this story I’ve been poking at all summer: the deadline for that is on Wednesday the 11th. Because it is absolutely ridiculous that I’ve been working on it since May–it and little else save for scraps here and there–and have only gotten this far.
I am posting this here in the hopes that someone will hold me accountable. I think–I think, I think–I have the shape for this story now. I also think I know why the main character has the hobby that he does, apart from the fact that I stole it from a real person I knew and gave it to him. The metaphorical why, the story’s mattering. (So many writers say they don’t know the “meaning” of a story til after they write it; it’s a surprise. That seems good and right to me, but it’s not most often how it goes for me.)
I dash off notes in fits of realization and come back to them later, and they blink up at me, stupidly, from the paper. (In this case, neon yellow paper.) Here’s hoping they eventually give birth to something that breathes.