Astarte by Canty
Before I get to that, I’ve finally hit upon a new blog name; dayya was only temporary. Penpanther is the blog’s new name.
And my Nanowrimo manuscript, A Useful Blind, stands at 39,704 words. I will be finishing on time. And then there’ll be one hell of a rewrite in 2015.
Now . . . what I’m sick of . . . these are declarations to remind me that I am a writer, have always been a writer, and will always be a writer–it’s me through and through . . . if I don’t write, I’m lost. You know that anecdotal tale about burning the ships? Some tellings name Julius Caesar as the original guy who burned his ships upon invading Britain, other tellings name Hernan Cortes’ conquest of the Aztec Empire. In 1519 Cortes landed on the coast of a new land in the New World, he destroyed his ships and two years later conquered the Aztec Empire. For Cortes and his Spaniards, there was no giving up and no going back. I burned my ships, and I’m never going to surrender. But, like Danny Elfman’s “The Little Things” on the WANTED soundtrack, I’m sick of the little things.
- I’m sick of everything getting in the way of me writing.
- I’m sick of having to earn money doing everything but writing.
- I’m sick of my unfinished manuscripts.
- I’m sick of my lost days, days when I don’t write. And there’s far too many of those!
- I’m sick of thinking about writing and not doing it.