Wednesday, September 30, 2009

biting my nails

It might be better if I did bite my nails. Instead, I bake cupcakes and lick the beaters. I desperately want to delete my last post because, well, because:

1. What kind of name is Laine?
2. You're already judging Lauren for driving drunk. (And perhaps you should. She did kill someone afterall).
3. Death is too dramatic a topic for a short story.
4. Why do I write so much about death?
5. Do I really?
6. Would a girl really write letters to the mother of a girl her sister killed? If you can even get that straight.
7. Insecurities abound.
8. When I reread anything - okay, many things - that I write, I am usually split between thinking it might be good and knowing it might be very bad.
9. I can't see your face when you read what I've written.
10. It isn't even done yet. Why am I posting an excerpt?

Because this blog is about the process. Deep breath. All is well. I am going to go into the kitchen now and cook a bowl of chocolate pudding with whole milk and I'll feel much better. What I should really do is just finish the story.

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