posted by
jwaneeta at 03:13pm on 01/11/2004
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The self-hating shame spiral continues merrily apace. I sent the Romeo page to the editor and immediately followed with a frantic email pleading with her to forget she saw it. Romeo's wearing a mask, it's overpainted, it's horrible I've started another oh oh oh!
Editor calls. "Hi? I.. I don't really understand what the problem is."
Me: "It's ugly woe!"
Editor: "Actually, it's fantastic and [name of head guy] is thrilled. We both are. It's great."
Me: "But it's icky and I started another version, pule, whimper."
Editor: (with the careful voice one uses around the dangerously addled) "Are you not comfortable? We want you to be comfortable. But really, it's gorgeous/great/just right/happy/soothe/calm."
Me: "Babble... babble... different version... version four..."
Editor: "Soothe."
Me: "Okay."
Me: shuts up.
I'm still going to send the fourth version when I mail the inks for the other page. I can't not. Because it really is better -- it took less than two hours to get the underpainting done, it rolled. But I have an extra week and the publisher likes what I sent so far, so I'm moderately relieved.
I seemed to relapse yesterday, but I slept ten hours and feel like I've beaten it. I'm drawing okay today. But that meant missing Mass for All Saints. It's a solemnity and I called in sick. *guilts*
Had this big plan to dig a silent hole and not emerge until after the election, because honestly, with that, and the work, and the shame spiralation I'm a jibbering loon. But here I am, jibbering. Not sure why.
I wish I could watch the election with somebody. Quigee, I'm a-scare! Tension.
Gibber? Jibber? Augh.
Editor calls. "Hi? I.. I don't really understand what the problem is."
Me: "It's ugly woe!"
Editor: "Actually, it's fantastic and [name of head guy] is thrilled. We both are. It's great."
Me: "But it's icky and I started another version, pule, whimper."
Editor: (with the careful voice one uses around the dangerously addled) "Are you not comfortable? We want you to be comfortable. But really, it's gorgeous/great/just right/happy/soothe/calm."
Me: "Babble... babble... different version... version four..."
Editor: "Soothe."
Me: "Okay."
Me: shuts up.
I'm still going to send the fourth version when I mail the inks for the other page. I can't not. Because it really is better -- it took less than two hours to get the underpainting done, it rolled. But I have an extra week and the publisher likes what I sent so far, so I'm moderately relieved.
I seemed to relapse yesterday, but I slept ten hours and feel like I've beaten it. I'm drawing okay today. But that meant missing Mass for All Saints. It's a solemnity and I called in sick. *guilts*
Had this big plan to dig a silent hole and not emerge until after the election, because honestly, with that, and the work, and the shame spiralation I'm a jibbering loon. But here I am, jibbering. Not sure why.
I wish I could watch the election with somebody. Quigee, I'm a-scare! Tension.
Gibber? Jibber? Augh.
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