August 8, 2009 in Tales From The Bookery
The journey to hell and back is paved with rough drafts and outlines, and all along the way you’re met with Samaritans who’d just as soon shank you than give you constructive feedback. There’s also shrubs and trees that scrape you up something fierce. Not to mention that the fire is always burning, and when you stop it feels all the hotter so you press on, only to find that it’s just as hot when you press on as it was when you weren’t making any tangible progress.
Am I making myself clear? Read the rest of this entry →