Friday, 7 August 2015
I mention this because fiction, though absorbing, is very hard work. As you may have guessed, blogging is easy for me. But writing fiction is very hard, and the hardest part is sitting in a chair long enough and often enough to finish it.
In case you are still worried about "the bodis riper", which I rather unfairly stopped while Hewbert was lingering in bed between life and death, I have not destroyed it or anything like that. But it was at 100,000 words (ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND)--most of them deliberately misspelled--and just ponder, for the moment, what it feels like to an author have written a funny, popular story of 100,000 words (so far) that she knows nobody will never, ever, publish, let alone pay a dime for.
Nevertheless I feel badly for its fans (especially Notburga, whose brilliant (and edifying) Sheep Horror Comic can be found here), so maybe I will finish "the bodis riper" by rewriting a chapter every Sunday and thus gaining the momentum to finish it. I do actually know how it ends. And although it is rubbish, it is our rubbish, so I supposed I should treat it with more respect. (Sigh.) And when it is done, we can have a virtual party.