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I finally selected the thirty pages of my draft which I will revise (and hopefully get down to twenty-five) and send off as my application manuscript. And I finally reread my entire draft. Funny how sections that formerly made me cringe jump out as strong points and vice versa. But mostly I'm once again having problems extracting myself from the character. The protagonist is this sort of loser version of me. But not. And in some ways no more me than every other character in my writing. At any rate, I get invested. And last night in the middle of an intense conversation between him and the other main character the doorbell rang and I never quite fully got out of the head space. It helped later when I just relaxed and finished reading.
This morning I realized the other stressor is that I'm sending my character out to fend for himself in the big bad world of grad school selection committees. I think he'll do okay though.
Then there's this whole "finding an apartment" and "packing up my belongings in less than a month" thing that's hovering in my conscious at all times. Sometimes I do better at spur of the moment life changes, not ones where I have lots of preparation. Of course, then when things are moving too quickly I complain about not having enough time. Aren't I just Mr. Picky? Whatever, I'll be fine. I moved every summer for seven years, so it's not like I'm not experienced. Sometimes my brain gets attached to things to freak out about which is a habit I'm trying to break.
Today I will revise and edit and e-mail them to a couple other pairs of eyes, then I will maybe take a break and let some apartment hunter drive me around. Or, I might just drive myself around with a cell phone and call all the numbers on "For Rent" signs. And possibly go visit a loft space on the west side, if they allow dogs.
In Other NewsTM, file under the category: It's About Fcking Time.
It's my distinct pleasure to introduce the artist formerly known as Damon who can now be known as![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thebrownhornet.
This morning I realized the other stressor is that I'm sending my character out to fend for himself in the big bad world of grad school selection committees. I think he'll do okay though.
Then there's this whole "finding an apartment" and "packing up my belongings in less than a month" thing that's hovering in my conscious at all times. Sometimes I do better at spur of the moment life changes, not ones where I have lots of preparation. Of course, then when things are moving too quickly I complain about not having enough time. Aren't I just Mr. Picky? Whatever, I'll be fine. I moved every summer for seven years, so it's not like I'm not experienced. Sometimes my brain gets attached to things to freak out about which is a habit I'm trying to break.
Today I will revise and edit and e-mail them to a couple other pairs of eyes, then I will maybe take a break and let some apartment hunter drive me around. Or, I might just drive myself around with a cell phone and call all the numbers on "For Rent" signs. And possibly go visit a loft space on the west side, if they allow dogs.
In Other NewsTM, file under the category: It's About Fcking Time.
It's my distinct pleasure to introduce the artist formerly known as Damon who can now be known as
thebrownhornet.
