I don’t like stories about how frustrating it is to write stories.
It’s a cop-out. It’s shying away from those holes in reality through which I look through to see the real world behind this one.
It’s whining and bitching about how hard it is to write.
How hard can it be? I’ve written for ten years, and I have yet to miss a day.
If I can do it, you can do it.
Except…. today has been so busy. And I’m totally worn out from all the bullshit I had to deal with.
Maybe just this one time’s okay.