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August 23, 2012 / bpeveril

What I think about

I was watching the movie Quills the other night (I’m not going to turn this into a movie review or anything, but if you asked me what was wrong with it, I’d mention British accents), and in it l’Abbe de Coulmier chides the Marquis de Sade for not reading enough. “A writer who writes more than he reads? For shame.” Now, I’m not going to put myself forth as the sterling example of writing or anything, but can that actually happen? Writing’s exhausting. I try to do it a little bit every day, but it takes a real toll, I just can’t do it constantly. Reading, on the other hand, is something I do all of the time, even when I’m dead-ass tired. I don’t know how I could possibly write more than I read.

Am I doing things wrong or is everyone else doing them wrong?

In other news, the first draft of Dirty Little Flowers is typed and it has been read. The reader’s assessment is that it needs two more chapters. Funny enough, they’re actually chapters that show up on some of my outlines, but got axed in the interest of brevity. What do I care about brevity, though? The draft I have in hand is more than two thousand words shy of twenty thousand long, so it’s not going to break the table if I drop it or anything. I know I’m supposed to be ready to murder my darlings at this stage, but things need fleshing out more than they need murdering.

I’ve also been talking with Luis about reworking the old Dead or Worse comics and finishing that. More on that as it unfolds.


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