As For Fiction

Well, I'm back.
{Yeah, I've been waiting to say that.}

I made it through two semesters of college. I'm still alive. I'm still planning on going back in the fall. Physics major. It means a lot of things. It means there aren't many papers to write. I like that. I don't like writing papers. I don't like forming thoughts on topics I don't care about.

On the upside, I find it fairly effortless to get a good grade on academic papers. Entry-level ones, at least.

As for fiction, I haven't written much since I started school. Little tidbits here and there. Nothing of importance. I've been back for a week, though, and in that week I've discovered something: writing after two semesters off is like running a couple miles after spending a year at a desk job.

In other words, it's like running...through molasses.

Last week, I was seriously worried that I'd never again be able to put stories on paper. Part of it is because I haven't attempted a proper rough draft since I began Those Who Trespass...in October of 2010. Part of it's because I've written just a handful of pages since last August.

It's gotten mildly better. I wrote four pages of one story this past weekend. A couple years ago, that wouldn't mean much. Now it's impressive. It gives me hope. I think I found a voice, which is vital.

There are other things that have happened, but I'll stop here, for now. Despite my failed attempts at return {and slightly narcissistic go-review-my-book-ness}, I now mean to stick around. At least until I return to physics in the fall.

It's like Boston in the fall. But different.

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