Popping in for a quick post today. Honestly, I had a pretty nice day. I woke up, worked out, actually did some of the homework I was assigned over break, and sung along to The Book of Mormon soundtrack with my brother. There was, however, one moment of disturbance.
I feel like you may have already suspected this judging from BEDA posts 2-4, but my NaNo novel is in bad shape. Really bad shape. Like if novels had human forms, mine would be obese and have diabetes. And I thought I was okay with this. I realized that everything I wrote wasn't going to be perfect or even very good, but that wasn't the point. The point was simple: write and do nothing else. So that's what I did. And as I was finishing a 30-minute word sprint, I wrote... a bad sentence. Not just a not good sentence, I mean a truly terrible sentence. As I was writing it, I thought to myself, "Dear goodness, Emily. That is garbage. And not even amusing garbage, that's like bad fan fiction garbage. Don't write it, don't write it." But alas, I did. And of course... that is the sentence my brother read when I left my word document open.
I don't know if you've ever left a diary open or anything along those lines, but there's a moment of utter mortification and if you could control things with your mind, you would destroy all human existence in a burst of nuclear destruction and hellfire. But I am not Carrie, and all I could do was tell him how upset I was, and ask him to close the document. Of course, being my brother, he cared little about the novel and my feelings, so I know it shouldn't be a big deal to me and I should just shrug it off, but I can't.
And now I'm trying to work on my book but I'm too afraid to let myself be awful. JUST BE AWFUL, EMILY. AWFUL IS THE BEEEEEST. kseeyoutomorrowbye.