Words Words Words : All the pages not fit to print

This is a book (sort of) about writing and all the ways I’m trying to get better at it. It functions as my ‘write something every day’ dumping place and is a MuseFic about that effort. This isn’t MuseFic focused on an existing story (those will continue as normal), but more of a general writing exercise.

This story is cross-posted to Wattpad.

Saturday’s Child is Full of Plans

“I can’t believe you really have this many unfinished things.” Sam was helping the Writer organize the work in progress piles that stretched back into childhood. The covered the floor and she could see hints of more piles just past the walls of story mist. “You can’t possibly mean to work on some of these. I mean the Wolves of Ulm has what, three pages to it?”

“Gimme that!” The Writer snatched the beloved notebook pages and added them to the pile of ‘really good ideas I had in grade school that I refuse to give up on.’ So far the ‘give it up pile’ was still empty.

“Can we at least narrow things down to things you started in the last few decades? Like mine?” Sam waved the small army of Tales of the Drunken Unicorn printouts. “Seriously, is there some reason you refuse to work on my stories?”

“I’ve been out of college for… a long time,” the Writer hedged. “I’m going to get it all wrong!”

“So what? Are there realism police that are going to come haul you away for being out of touch with what all the cool kids are doing nowadays? I. Have. A. Unicorn.” Sam tossed the papers at her Writer, who clumsily caught them. Mostly. “Any claim you might have had on realism is pretty much moot.”

There was a pause.

“Plus, you could always just ask one of the folks in the appropriate age group to beta read it for you.” The fictive added grudgingly.

“Alright, fine, fine.” The Writer gave the pile of paper a glare. “I guess I’ll pull up what I have of Half Past Never from the blog and get it into Wattpad, since it’s the origin story of what not. Once that’s done we’ll see about rolling into Beware the Pointy End and Slaying the Princess.”

“See, now we have a plan!” Sam snapped her fingers and the rest of the paperwork vanished back into the mists.

“You’re only calling this a ‘plan’ because we’re working on your verse.” The Writer pointed out as she moved over to the now clean writing desk. “If this was something else you’d be complaining.”

“But it is my story and I’m not, so chop chop!” Sam dug a beer out of the couch and got comfortable while the Writer went off to make a new cover and reread the old chapters.

And lo… there was story.