I’ve done more Inktober drawings since I last posted. Honest. I just haven’t uploaded them. I’m doing NaNoWriMo this year, too, but I haven’t logged in any word counts.
Why not? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? Post and post again to prove that I’m a content mill who can reliably produce entertainment worthy of your time? To remind a forgetful, uncaring world that I exist and create?
Probably. The problem is, during a creative mood I crawl into a mental pit of isolation and feel quite happy there. I bombed Inktober because I came up with an idea for a sequel to Wolf’s Wife and promptly wrote it. Now I’m bombing NaNo because I’m still working on Wolf’s Bane (currently in the middle of draft #2, which requires careful writing instead of sloppy word vomit) rather than a rough draft for the sequel to Good As Dead. Yes, I have sequels coming out of my ears and it couldn’t be more fun.
That’s not sarcasm, by the way. It is fun to work in my own zig-zag way even when it means failing structured events. It’s something I’ve come to appreciate about myself. Or really, something I have to appreciate because the alternative is to have a squalling breakdown about not being perfect. Drinking only gets you so far, you know?
So I’ll see what happens. Pretty excited with how Wolf’s Bane is turning out, enough to be optimistic that I could finish this puppy (ha ha ha LET ME HAVE MY PUNS) by the time everyone else is celebrating their NaNo winner badges. And I already have a shiny cover ready for it.