a small, true story about me

I’ve had to take a break from Discworld reading to grind out some freelance work, and it’s been slow going – the whole job ended up taking about a month longer than it should have, and now I’m running up against another freelance job. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve read a Discworld book (all the Science quotes were from the queue).

The crunch of freelance work coupled with creative blocks that I’ve been running up against mean that my personal writing – which I went to school to pursue and promptly lost track of afterwards – has been suffering, and I’ve sort of run up against that question of “should I even do this? why do I want to do this?” that every writer faces, you know, every morning. We’re big into existential dread.

But last night I started Wintersmith, and, if you’ve read it, do you remember how it starts? That whole opening scene is so visceral, and… cinematic isn’t even quite the right word, although it definitely is that. You can feel the desperation of that situation seeping off the page, building as she walks. And that made it kind of click for me; that’s why I want to do it. For just a fraction of that feeling; to evoke something even half as strong as Tiffany Aching walking, fire behind her and frost in front of her. I went to sleep after reading that still seeing that fire behind my eyes, and this morning I woke up and outside, there was snow.

Now, I would love for that to be the end of this small true story but the real end is that I double-checked my reading list and found out that it’s Thud! that comes next, not Wintersmith. And I’m too pedantic and stubborn to just read them out of order. I’ve been looking forward to Thud! and I’m excited to start! But what an anti-climactic ending to my personal crisis huh

(Quotes will resume sometime this week, because all the ones I’ve got marked for queueing right now are from the wrong dang book!)