Yargh!

Missed my Christmas deadline, which I half expected. I figured if I set a crazy deadline, it would urge me to write faster, even if I didn't make the cut. The plan actually worked, since I figure I only have about 1/3rd of the novel left to write. I'm still frustrated with myself but not entirely upset.

Wrote some short stories, too. Did my very first story involving a superhero, which was a lot of fun (I always thought it would be wild to work on a comic one day). I also wrote a short horror bit, and then a few pages involving a break-up between two people. I have no idea what I'm going to do with all these short stories. I'm trying to figure out how to make some money off them if possible. Not the reason why I write, but it would still be nice to get some cash out of the deal, eh?

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During a meeting with "The Artist" -- who is doing the cover art for Magic In Dogtown -- she offered to make me a personalized soup mug. I forget exactly how this was brought up, but our conversations are usually bizarre like that anyway, so it's no surprise. I was just recently told, however, that the mug has been completed! I have no idea what it looks like or how it's painted. When I brought it up to her, she just laughed mysteriously. Knowing her, that could mean anything. I wouldn't be surprised if I were presented with my gruesome demise depicted across the exterior each time I used it for a meal. If it does, I will find a way to make sure it's on permanent display in my apartment somehow.

It would be external motivation, for sure.