I’m not satisfied with my performance. Obviously.

I’ve got several pieces that need to go out, but I can’t find the time or the energy to actually do it. I mean, it’s ridiculous that I won’t.

How the hell is anything going to get published if I don’t let anyone else look at it?

Also, I’m really unhappy with what I did today toward the novel.

I have this whole Grumpy Old Men concept breeding with a “state of politics” idea brewing, but instead, I wrote the main character as a stuck up ass-kissing effete.

He’s supposed to be modern liberal satire; a Democrat who thinks rules actually mean something to the boorish neighbour who has bought off the police and local government.

But instead, it’s shit; I have a feel for the character. What I wrote wasn’t it.

The only thing I can think of is to move on. Rewriting at this point is always an option, even if it’s not happening today.

Fuck. Today sucks.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 2545 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Ready Player One, Ernest Cline
Comics: The Maxx 1-3, 0.5
Music: The No Fun, Local H