I have been working tirelessly..well, that’s a lie. I am always tired as soon as I wake up anyway.
As I was saying, I have been working on writing stories for this: The New World Comic Book Anthology is being put together by Iron Circus Comics. You have until the 20th to submit so hurry the hell up!
The first story I wrote ended up being 12 pages of comic book long. It is the best out of the three. At least, that’s what the few people who read it think. And the thing is…yes, it is. It’s actually a pretty good story.
Then I wrote a second one. I did not “think” much over it, whatever ideas I had, I just ran with it. And that story is okay.
The third story is just plain fucking weird. I did not even try to censor myself or think or center my process ot do anything but go with the first thing that popped up in my head. It was awesome. And it is pure nonsense. I love it.
This fun pic is from this awesome article about writing. Go read it.
So I am getting to my point here.
Can you write too much? Can you exhaust your fuel? In this specific case, I am not writing for fun. There is a specific theme Iron Circus Comics require of the stories. Maybe I could only churn one out? Maybe I don’t know what the fuck I am doing? Maybe it’s not as fun when I am not writing for fun. Maybe it’s a lot harder to be a professional writer, writing to somebody else’s demands.
I feel like I ran out. I put all my energies into one, unwillingly so, and the rest is like leftovers. Weird leftovers. But I like weird.
Time will tell. Or not.