An actual WIP? On a Wednesday no less??
Hello friends, I hope you're all well. It's been a while since I last posted anything, so I'm really pleased to be sharing this wip with you now.
I've been worried a lot about my writing recently— struggling with motivation, questioning what it's all for, lamenting how unrealistic/unattainable it feels when I dream of writing a whole book and getting it published. So far the main conclusion I've reached is: if I want to actually write, I have to write. Everything else is beside the point if I'm not actually putting words down. So I set myself a reasonably attainable goal of writing for at least 15 mins every day for 5 days, and actually finishing a Snowbaz WIP I've been working on since January, to prove to myself that I can 1. write stuff that isn’t completely terrible, and 2. actually finish something thats more than a 1k one shot.
I am now on day 6, and I've written for well over an hour most days, and the fic I wanted to complete is now 10k and in its beta stage. I'm so pleased at having got to that stage, and very excited to share it with you when it’s done.
For now, here is a little bit of ridiculous Snowbaz animosity from the final chapter (Baz pov):
He climbs into the back with a huff, holding his tray at a precarious angle as he clips his seatbelt into place.
I watch Snow's two coffee cups teeter on the edge of spilling. I try to hold it back, but a strangled sound of frustration escapes my throat. "Well if you'd bloody taken one, it wouldn't be spilling, would it?" He snaps, righting the flimsy cardboard tray, but not before the greasy bag of pastries flops onto the seat beside him.
Without completely turning, I hold my hand out, snapping my fingers irritably when he doesn't respond. Simon places a warm cup in my hand. It smells of hazelnut syrup. All at once I picture how different this morning could have been had Snow not deserted me yet again. Buttery pastries and hot coffee in bed with a dazzling boy I haven't stopped thinking about in a year. The idea threatens to break me.
Instead of crumpling into the seat like the dropped bag of pastries, I roll down my window and pointedly drop my entire coffee cup into a hedge. (Normally I wouldn't dream of littering, but I'm making a point here. I will not be softened by sugary drinks, no matter how much I'm craving the caffeine.)
"Well now you're just being an arse!" Simon growls over my shoulder as I'm starting the engine.
Now I know I can actually get to the end of a full draft of something, I’m aiming to start working on some og things once more. It feels a lot more scary than writing for fandoms, so we’ll see how it goes. Please wish me luck 😬
Hugs to everyone below, and a pressure-free invite to post any wips you’re working on if you feel like sharing (:
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