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Writing about horror and self-loathing

I saw this piece , and it was not the incident that shocked me as much as my reaction: This would make a compelling story, was my first thought. Here were people who were committing suicides and killing their own children because they lost jobs, and here I was, mining for a story. Disgusting. For a moment, I really, really hated myself. And despite all the excuses I’m giving myself, (writers borrow from fact to write fiction, and other such crap), I can’t feel good about myself.

Writing a writing exercise

Darc was talking the other day about a lack of inspiration. When I face such times, I write. In an attempt to kick-start my writing after being unwell the last two days, I took recourse to writing exercises. They output is mostly crap, but I guess I need to let the crap come out first before I write anything meaningful.

Writing about more word count

Yesterday, I did some writing at the workshop, (600 words), but none when I got back. Life got the better of me.

Today, through a splitting headache, I managed about 1500 words. My writing resolution is up in the air…I need to get some consistency here.