Sunday, September 09, 2012

So I'm sitting here typing up a scene I wrote on Friday during what felt like an unsuccessful workdate, and I've got the Tsubasa Resevoir Chronicle OST playing because it felt like the right background music for this book. Typing, typing, and it's really not that amazing of a scene plotwise—it's more about the little details that show the character dynamics, but it strikes me that the last time I listened to this music was while I was working simultaneously on The Wild Hunt and the first draft of what would become FRAGMENTS.

I had no idea how the industry worked, but I was so assured that certain things would be mine within a certain time frame. All I had to do was keeping letting the want of them drive me forward. That was five years past, but it feels like two lifetimes ago.  Possibly three.

It is said that we keep walking, we trust the path to take us where we need to go. But it gets a little tough to believe that I didn't miss a turn somewhere. It's not regret, because I don't necessarily think I would be better off if I had made decisions differently. It's more looking at where I am now and how far it is from where I want to be then regrouping and deciding how I'm going to get there.

A Forest That Eats Your Face
Words: 1814
Total: 5611
Doubt: All the discontentment lives in my head this week, and follows me around like a shadow.
But I wrote this anyway: Sorrow didn’t like the kite—something about the way it twisted in the air, bound to do his sister’s bidding by the taunt string between them, made his hands twitch.

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