Or you are going to feel a hell of a lot fucking worse.” – From Dusk ‘Til Dawn

And, lo and behold, my best got a hell of a lot fucking better, and I don’t feel a hell of a lot fucking worse.

I’ve gotten down a little under 3,000 good words of actual story content today.  No dialogue, nothing that will go verbatim into anything, but everything is Split City, and everything is something that will either fuel the plot or make the world tick over behind the plot, so it’s all directly useful.  I haven’t done anything nearly that productive on something that was my own project in over a year.

My best just got better, and the bar just went up.  Way up.  I’m pretty sure I’m happy about that – happy and terrified.  It’s a little daunting to look at what you can really do, when you focus and give it your best damn shot, as opposed to giving yourself reasons not to have to do the real fucking work.  This is the sharpest my brain has felt in a long damn time, and it feels really, REALLY good.  It’s the same feeling above the neck as a good sweaty workout followed by a hard spar gives me below the neck.  It’s exhausting and satisfying and makes me want to do it again tomorrow – and I have way more than enough bubbling in my brain to do it.

And because I did it today, there is less of a pressure cooker on the inside.  The city is starting to tick better because I am not hobbling myself, and I might get some decent non-chemical sleep.  Genuine joy in creation makes me feel more peaceful than I have in a long time, and more fulfilled than I have with anything I have created in more years than I care to count.  I am starting to have hope that this may be the first big art that I can actually bring to completion, instead of petering out partway through, and sighing and saying “someday…” and never getting around to it.  I want it to live, and I will see it through.  I am determined, and my best just got a hell of a lot fucking better.

And the phrase of the day is: squid saddle.  When you develop brain squids, buy squid tack and squid saddles.  It’s the only reasonable response.

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