Stayed up editing The Yard Birds (again) until 12:38ish this morning. This was my great story from college. I had to cut out three thousand words so I could submit it to Sixfold. It was invigorating. Those two hours really flew by. And I slept beautifully.
More importantly, I made a few discoveries. First, I'm much better than I was then. And I was good then. Publishable good. "Cox Knowledge Good". Middle fingers all around. This leads me to believe I'm quite good now. Hammering out that Fontana story and that Esther story would be an interesting experiment to that end. Let's see how good I've become.
Chuck told me my writing is different, more polished. I can see that that is also true. I'm darker. Briefer. Yes, better. How good on the continuum of artists? Who cares. I don't suck. All these months of knocking myself down have been exposed for what they truly are. A smokescreen of negative self-talk, posing as critical thinking and humility. Well. I have a lot to offer. So that negative stuff is going down the drain. Being sucked and swallowed as we speak. I can't do a thing to save them.
Hmm...
Big game huntin.
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