You know what? Self doubt sucks. What was I thinking about “angles” anyway? What a stupid idea that was.
Not all of it was stupid, just the part where I made “angles” the focus of the impetus of the story.
It was actually a self-doubt kind of thing, angles. I imaged writing from a female perspective without actually knowing much about females beyond that they breathe air and they’re smart and they often smell sweet, overly sweet actually, but you can’t blame people for what scents they choose, and they’re often superior negotiators and wield power in a no-nonsense fashion.
So imagining that a woman would choose “angles” or their lack thereof as the focus of her displeasure with the world is very very very stupid, and reductive to a really horrible extent. Horrible I say.
But you know what? Writing these little “things” in the morning is turning out to be clarifying. I feel I’ve grasped a corner of a direction just from writing this. I can discard what doesn’t work without flogging myself and eating multiple loaves of bread and butter hoping that I’ll land myself into a carbohydrate stupor and I’ll just have to dive into the bed.
The chapter I’ve been working on for three months is gone. Good riddance!