Magical Truthsaying Bastard Shadesong (shadesong) wrote,
Magical Truthsaying Bastard Shadesong


Today, I pulled together the disparate bits of Cicatrix from Blogathon and assembled the usable parts; 15,000 words. Basically a decent part of the skeleton of the thing.

I'd been holding off on that for months (clearly). As people who are not extremely new readers know, a friend of mine died the day I started Blogathon. I was told just after finishing my final Blogathon post. So every time I've gone back to try to harvest my Blogathon writing, I get gutpunched with that awful sick feeling of the whole time I was writing this, my friend was dead, and no one told me. Twenty-four hours of spinning story out of darkness and my friend was gone and I didn't know. It's the loss tangled up with the I should have been there to help guilt.

So I kind of couldn't even look at the LJ entries as I was copying and pasting.

Thankfully, that doesn't seem to translate completely to the text itself. I can look at the text in Scrivener and work with it, where looking at it on LJ twists the knife.

So it's transferred now. And the bones are there. feste_sylvain asked if I could outline it; I can't, because it reveals parts of itself to me as I write it. Hell, I didn't know about Ash's abuser's death when I started writing that day, but of course it is the catalyst for everything. I can't map the terrain I've yet to see. And it is almost a fractal form, this story - bits spiralling off of other bits. I need to walk beside the story and see where it goes.

I have been tying myself up in knots over writing. I have been putting Obligation Writing first, or trying to - I should do this for that anthology, I should edit that thing, I should submit this. And I've been balking every step of the way, because my hindbrain and my writerbrain know that that's not what I'm supposed to be doing. And so I have been doing *nothing*.

And Cicatrix has, frankly, been intimidating the crap out of me. Thing is, if I succeed at this? It's going to be my best work. I love my other stories but this is stronger, hits harder, burns hotter. And I've been wibbling about the stuff I should write first just in case I can never top this.

And no, fuck it. I have had a mess of signs and portents telling me in capslock that THIS is what I need to be working on. Go hard, go strong, leave it all on the floor and don't hold anything back.

And where can I possibly go from there?

I'll just have to set the bar higher. But I didn't really *want* to be lazy, anyway.

So yeah, great big stuff. It's scary. But most things that are worth it are a bit scary.
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