WORTH 50,000: DAY FOURTEEN - Molotov.

I didn't write anything last night! I am so good at this you guys! I did have a pretty lengthy discussion with a room of writers in which I was very awkward and slightly hysterical over the fact THAT I CANNOT WRITE BURST BECAUSE IT WILL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH AND JESUS FUCK WHAT AM I DOING? But they were nice, because they are nice people for the most part, and they reinforced a lot of things I know to be true but refuse to acknowledge over this.

And then one of them said: Is there anything you can write that you think will prepare you for the thing you can't write? And I said yes VERY QUIETLY, because I can? I can work on the Lesbian Spec Fic Tattoo-verse, which is a weird mash up of science fiction and magical realism and would probably help me to better make the transition. Also, I already have about 10,000 words of that because of LJ Idol, SO. I don't know. My head is a mess. Welcome to 1982.

But, today's image is not taking any of my shit, so that's nice. Whose shit aren't you taking?