After exhaustive attempts got me exactly nowhere for most of the last two weeks, I finally managed to stick a fork in one of the pitches I was working on. No idea what it reads like as a story or a pitch, but it’s a finished draft. And a draft means something complete is out there for the critiquing and revising.
Of course, I’m hoping it’s brilliant and perfect and everyone will throw me on their shoulders and carry me to victory, but… reality and experience tell me it ain’t to be. They’ll tell me it’s long, muddled, and the beginning of the third act needs work.
But that’s cool, because 20 minutes ago I couldn’t even ask anyone to read anything. Onward and upward, folks.

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