Thursday, December 16, 2004

Percolating like thick coffee

Many thoughts in my brain, some deep some shallow. Having the worst time getting any of it into coherant form.

Feeling very lonely today, even though I know my beloved will be here until Sunday.

A few small edits to make to my story. What do you *do* when a Hugo nominee says "this is damn good, go forth and get it published!"? Friend or not, he knows from writing, and his praise really made me re-evaluate my thought of myself as a cruddy writer.

I mean, I tossed that thing out in a few hours, it *can't* ge good, right? When did I get myself into this rut of thinking nothing I did was worthy of anything?

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