And just like that, it's finished again!
For a while now, I won't be able to freely spill my hard-earned sweat all over the keyboard every day, nor rack my brains over the plot, much less burn the midnight oil and stay up all night...
Oh, this one is possible.
Anyway, thinking about it makes me feel a little miserable. I really can't bear to part with it.
Phoenix Mocks Phoenix: (ω)
The whole book came to 2.6 million characters and took eight months. Just like before, I decided to start writing this book on a whim. The outline was reasonably well prepared, but I didn't handle the style very well.
At first, I'd planned to write something relatively serious. Not that serious—just a tiny bit more serious than my previous writing style.
The feedback wasn't great, so I didn't stick with it.
So you've probably noticed that the content from the synopsis never appeared in this book. It happened in a parallel time and space, hidden away in one of my folders.
I won't try to be serious anymore. I've accepted my fate.
It's strange, really. I'm clearly a very serious and proper person, with an extremely upright set of values, but the moment I touch a keyboard, my style immediately goes crooked...
It must be the keyboard's fault!
Or maybe the computer chair. It could also be the monitor. There are plenty of possibilities—I can't keep blaming the keyboard. I'm going to investigate them one by one and see exactly where the problem lies.
Damn keyboard, making me go off track again and again while I type!
Back to the point: the outline for this book was fairly well prepared, and my writing improved ever so slightly. Especially the update schedule—every day at nine, extremely punctual. I fulfilled