Fuck It

The title pretty much sums up my attitude at the moment. Come to think of it, I don't think that's the first time I've used that title for this particular blog. I think I must have forgotten about the syndrome I adopted in high school when the need arose. The Fuck It Syndrome. Came in handy for things that shouldn't be obsessed over. Kind of goes hand in hand with Robin Williams' Fuck-It-All drug. Sweet.

Anyway, so what's the syndrome for this time? Once again, my story is annoying me. Actually, it's not really the story's fault (ok, so it's never the story's fault - it's my story so it's my fault. Fine. Picky, picky). While starting the whole thing was a huge, annoying pain in the ass, this time I've just been fussing over whether or not to include a specific couple of scenes involving two of my characters. Should I bother? Does it do anything for my story? Do I want them in there because they rock out?

I've been agonizing over this little conundrum for quite some time. Longer than I should have, truth be told. I think a part of that agonizing included, "Well how the hell do I change it if I leave it out?" I didn't know. So I was kind of freaked. I was rather used to it the way it was, and even though I enjoyed the scene, I still didn't think it was truly fabulous, so the "Do I want it because I like it?" question was only so-so. Sure I like it, but I wouldn't cry if I had to cut it either.

Things finally came to a head a few days ago when I got to stay up nice and late the way I LOVE to do because they cut back on hours at B&N. I get less hours which = less money, but it's a blessing in disguise because I get more time to write. But what the hell does that matter if I'm not even writing? Ah, here's the "Fuck It" part for you.

The last time I wrote a fanfic was when I went out of my mind and thought, "Why the hell not? It'll be short anyway." By the way, that fanfic has transformed into a great romance story for the future. Hoorah. Anyway, the other night I watched an early episode of Doctor Who and because I'm a complete nerd and think David Tennant is hot (ok, maybe not hot, but I'd be like a kid who was just told the candy store he's in is now his if I ever found David Tennant in my bed, or hell, even in my vicinity...God do I ever need to get laid. Honestly kids, this whole virgin thing is getting OLD), and went to bed dreaming dreams of visiting London and meeting him in a bar...ah I wish.

That morning I woke up and laid in bed for a while, pondering ideas. I don't know about other writers, but I tend to get some great ideas when I just lay there, thinking. Either at night or in the morning. I go through whole scenarios that way. That's exactly where a huge chunk of my current book comes from. An hour of laying in bed. So there I was, pondering a Doctor Who scenario for...God knows what reason. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure where it came from. I'd thought up a character before to hang out with him, but I'd never acted on it (as in wrote it down as a fanfic) though I know exactly where the whole kit n'kaboodle would go. But this idea. It was good. I liked it. It was violent. It had tension (hahaha - sorry, Seton Hill giggle), and I thought, "That would be fun." And then I got up.

I didn't do anything about it for a while until I went through the day thinking about it and realized just how much I wanted to sit my ass down and write it. Of course, those thoughts were tarnished by the thoughts of, "Well, I should be working out this Anna/Rilst problem." Finally, I remembered Mike Arnzen's class, and decided, "You know what? Fuck that. I'm going to write what I want to write." I got up and grabbed my red notebook (*drool* God I love that notebook) and started writing.

Aaaaaah. It was good. God it was so good. Words went onto the paper, endorphins flooded my brain, all was well with the world. Ok, so I don't know about the endorphins part, but it was so nice just to feel my pencil swirling over the paper in pretty little letters to make pretty little words. I don't care that it's a Doctor Who fanfiction and it's a waste of real writing time. In essence it is real writing time. It made me happy and hey, that's all that matters. I've been working on it instead of my story, but I don't much care. I have an entire week off and I have enough done already that I'm not under any crazy pressure constraints.

So yeah. Fuck it. >=)

Currently: Take that bitches!