“Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, writing?”
“I am . I am writing.”
“You’re playing Neverwinter Nights.”
“… Would you believe me if I said that this was critical research?”
“Since that’s what you said about taking the photos of the pretty boats? And about watching Veronica Mars? And about making chocolate chip cookies? And about playing Killzone?”
“I’m going to go with ‘no’.”
22:25pm: I have written exactly 68 words since that conversation. In order to fulfill my quota for today (which I really, really need to because of the whole scrapping 8,346 words of work, aka All Of It), I find myself in need of home-made chocolate chip cookies. Great. Fantastic. Only, I have no chocolate chips. The eternal question: Do I drive to the 24-hour TESCO in Hove (like, 8 miles away) to get some sugery, sugary goodness? Or do I just eat sugar straight out of the bag instead? (Hey, it saves baking time…)
00:14am: Did not go to tesco. Drank three bowls of tea with four sugars each instead. Wrote another 197 words. Was glorious. My new main character has a cat now. It’s gray and its name is Tabby. I don’t know why.
Now, to business.
I need one of those survey/quiz things everyone fills out on their LJs/blogs/bebos/myspaces/etc etc.
I need the biggest, baddest, meanest, all-encompassing motherfucker of a quiz you can find.
I will Do Something for the person who gives me the best one. You are free to pick the ‘Something’ because I have no idea.
Go forth and plunder!Tags: pleh, procrastination, writing