So, my life is being divided between the usuals (Asher, Jeremiah, cleaning... World domination) and Skyrim. Yes, I've fallen into that trap. No one is immune. Shut up. But lately, when I'm not doing all those thing, I've been really into my writing. See, I have this book that I have been working on for the past... ummmm... 3 years, or so, and sometimes I just explode into all these really good ideas and then spend every second of my free time writing. This past week I've managed to go from 4,983 words to a whopping 18,378 words! I know that for some of you illustrious authors, this isn't much, but with all I have to do in my crazy life (that Wood Elf isn't going to level up herself!) that's a huge accomplishment for me.
It's always been a life long dream of mine to become an author. I wrote some of the cheesiest, most poorly written (much like this blog) stories back when I was a young teenager, but after I hit 16, I knew for a fact that this is what I really wanted to be. I overdosed on English and creative writing, and I really think that (and the fact that I'd read 500 page books in less than a week) has really made me into a pretty imaginative character.
One thing that I'm torn about is actually finding someone to read my writing for me. I mean, this blog is one thing. I never really write about things that might be embarrassing to me (now, anyway), but when you spend years pouring your heart and soul into something, it's scary to have someone else pick up and evaluate your work. . .
Anyway, calling all editors who will at least be civil when they tell me they hate my work. Heh. Heh.
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