by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner
I did not get nearly as much work done on this novel today as I should have. I was just feeing meh and did not want to do anything all that productive. But there’s a chance I may get a second wind this evening and get more done.
I’m trying — trying — to write at least three scenes out a day. That’s the goal.
And I’m getting pretty good at doing that. But I have a lot more scenes to write and there’s always a risk that the whole thing will collapse in on itself AGAIN and I’ll have to start from scratch.
Usually, the whole collapsing in on itself happens because I realize something about the novel’s structure that causes me to stop believing in it.
Anyway, there’s always tomorrow. I’m growing more more nervous that if I don’t get this thing done by spring 2026 that something will happen to dramatically change the context of the whole effort.
My dream, of course, is to sell the novel in 2026, make enough money to get the fuck out of this tyrannical MAGA country and never look the fuck back. But that would be like winning the lottery.
As it stands, I’m probably going to be dodging bombs and bullets like everyone else whenever the country implodes because of fucking Trump. Uh. He’s America’s Hitler.
