Aaaaaaaand, I lied.

Maybe my last post was a teensy-tiny bit dramatic. This much. *spreads fingers. Debates spreading ass-cheeks. Realizes that gap is much bigger.*

I tried to burn the story with fire and piss on the smoldering remains.

Instead, I slept on it. Pondered over it. Masturbated over it. a few times. Then, I woke up one morning and decided to fix it. If I can’t fix it, I shouldn’t be writing, right?

Ulysses helped here. That handy app for iPad. I guess it kind of kick-started my repair process because it helped me break down the story into it’s constituent parts, and delete the fluff. For reference, by separating the story into 4 acts (act 2 split with the midpoint) it helped me see where the big problems were in bite-sized hunks, (This was supposed to be ‘chunks’ but I like this fuck-up better) allowing me to shred 1200 words (out of a 6k story) so that I could see where they story lived. Then, I refined. Changed the name. Changed the theme. Changed the antagonist. Darkened the protagonist. Made a cover. It’s pretty sexy.

What I had, was this thing that was chock full of stuff, but no story. In shredding the meat to the bone, I found the story, and stitched it back up into a beautiful corpse-puppet-thing.

Soon, I’ll release. (Giggidy) For now, a tease:



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