Feeling compelled to write tragedy is just the worst. I know in my heart that I could get so many more readers if I wasn’t inclined to pull the rug out from under the main character and them after sinking more than a hundred chapters into the MC.
But there’s just something so special about having an *awesome* literary goal in mind, and providing the readers with plenty of opportunities to anticipate just what kind of tragedy I’m writing. This comes at a personal cost however, for I’m so excited for the *huge* reveals that giving away little things here and there as spoilers has zero effect on me. I’m as excited about my own work as the most super fan-reader that’s ever lived
My husband had to laugh at me when I started squealing with heartfelt adoration for a character I wrote, he said “it’s like you’re watching it happen in front of you!” I’m my own fan, and that’s not necessarily good for the work
It’s a personality thing surely, I laugh at my own jokes too... and they are bad
My obsession with writing is my obsession with ‘the classics’: I leave so many unnecessary artifacts in my writing that the grammar checker endlessly asks ‘would you like to remove the unnecessary word you’ve added?’
My obsession with them is bad enough that I’m currently writing something which sounds like it was written by multiple 19th century authors, then dragged hundreds of years into a post-apocalyptic future. At least, I dearly *hope* that is what it reads like