Damnable Sprites

A small update.

That I find getting back into my current project obtuse.  Like a skeleton key that is just barely oversized for the lock it ought to open.  I can force it with enough effort, but first I feel myself scramble around looking for another alternative when there simply isn't one.

You must sit down and do the work.

This is where all the insecurities come to play, dancing on my mind like sprites, quick and ephemeral. I brush them away but out of the corners of my eye I can see them.  I know they whisper that the story is no good and you should simply let it die.

But that's depressing.

More encouraging: plenty of terrible stuff gets published all the time.

Currently I work on a short story that called to me.  This is the third short story I have started into within the last few months.  Ideas call and I'm exploring them, but it isn't the commitment of a longer piece and I don't feel bad letting it go.  The process is just lubrication to slide back into the heavier work I ought to be doing.

Not that they are bad stories.  There's potential there.  Potential that the sprites whisper I probably won't realize.  They can shove it.

This urge to write something new is simply avoidance of the hard work ahead, and I know it.  Short story explorations are safer, and easier than tackling something bigger, like the one I really want to write (currently under the working title "Construption") (yes that is spelled correctly, and no it isn't a real word).

I need to go back and reread a good portion of AN and then I might start feeling the vibe on that one again.  Feeling it or not, it needs to be written.  It's close - close to the point where I can abandon it to the wilds of others and see what returns.  Close to being able to tackle something else.


Basically, [insert motivational poster here].