Tuesday, July 12, 2005

not about owls or cheese, yet.


winery bathroom
Originally uploaded by sweetmondaygirl.

every once in a while, usually deep into a chapter as i am now, i have a fleeting moment of thinking "my God, i could very possibly be writing the worst novel ever composed."

thankfully, i've been lucky enough to have read literally hundreds of painfully bad scripts at work, and since i imagine the literary world is not much different, i'm fairly certain that my book will probably be only the 338th worst ever.

when we were camping, i sheepishly sang g. a song i was making up about he and i. it was terrible. terrible. and yet i impressed him, somehow, because he loves me.

2 comments:

Doug Worgul said...

That's not the reason why I'm impressed with your book (at least, the 50 pages I've read), though I also love you.

Feisty said...

I think you and I will be competing for the worst novel ever written. That's definitely how I feel sometimes. Or maybe we'll be competing for the 338th worst. ;)