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just a monkey at a typewriter

sometimes, that’s what i feel like. and distinctly NOT producing good material.

it’s usually in the days when i’m not feeling the creative vibe, obviously (and of which there have been far too many recently), but there are still some days where i’m feeling pretty good about things, progress appears to be happening, and then, whammo, i get that reality check that says, essentially, ‘what were you thinking?’

that’s usually because i haven’t read my work out loud recently, or haven’t tried to convey it to another person, meaning the half-boiled creations are sloshing around in my brain and occasionally giving off bubbles of momentary brilliance, blinding me to the encompassing fog surrounding them. it’s only when i do read it out loud or try to relate the story to someone else that the yawning chasms between seemingly coherent thoughts and scenes become obvious. even worse are the gaps between what i’ve written on the page and what i’ve left in my brain, expecting the readers to find the necessary storyline spelunking gear to make the cross themselves.

i know, this is well-known fact for most writers, but, like everything else, it seems easier to tell someone else to do it than to do it myself.

but this is all perfectly okay. at least i’m still trying, right?

god, i hope so. it’s almost time for my banana.