I am trying to get back to writing lately, find an hour or two just to sink my fingers into ANY of my projects, but all what I come up with is, like, meh.

Minus alcohol! MINUS!

Let me tell you, I freaking love all my projects. I hate them all as well, but, as they say, every young writer is a bit worse than they think they are and a little bit better, the same magical time.  Here I came to this unholy moment in which I look at all my ideas written down so far and I cannot catch the loose ends. I have no idea why, because they are all pretty vivid and obvious to wave them back again.

Maybe this is the problem of a block? Too much thinking on why and too little on what else? Maybe I don’t listen to my characters hard enough. I have honestly no idea. I will catch some short writing on weekend, maybe that would get me out of this innuendo.

I need a drink and a story! Yes!

Sounds like I just need a 1000 words leap of faith once in a while. And some yarn. I got heavily addicted to knitting some time ago and now, as I finished my only part of yarn, I feel so abandoned when I don’t have a thread to bond.

I don’t say this because I’ve watched 50 Shmades of Shmey trailer, which, btw, is very poor and looks more like a romantic comedy than a, presumably, revolutionary piece of fiction.

Revolutionise my ass.

Or maybe not. We’re talking Grey in here.

Btw, can I just say that I LOVE new Imogen Heap’s album? All the videos of new songs are fabulous. Simply fabulous. x




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