So, I left on what I thought was a high note. Hartley's Friend got a 10/10 review, was put through spinoff appeal, and was one of the rare few to get cleared. I had left on a high, and I actually regarded the pasta as the best single short story I had ever written. God, I seem so naive, arrogant and concieted to myself now.
Then I took November off. I'd been writing non-stop for the previous two months and I think I burned myself out. I just couldn't write any more. It wasn't writer's block. I knew what to write. I just didn't want to write it.
Planning to return to short story writing after my semester finished next week anyway, I get an email saying Hartley's Friend had it's first comment. Naturally I was excited. Here's the comment;
"6/10 Felt it ended to abruptly, and kids shows are a little overdone."
I realized how far I was from the point I though I had reached. I have a lot to learn. I thought this pasta was the best piece of writing I'd ever made, and maybe it still is, but it's not good enough. I can, and should, do better. I need to refine my art.
I have not conquered the genre of horror, I've earned my yellow belt, and It's time to try for orange.
I will come back, and I will write pastas, and I will edit them (everything I've written up to this point has been a first draft), and I will post them on writer's workshop before simply uploading them.
All I'm missing are good ideas, so chances are the pastas won't be daily. Maybe not even weekly, but I'm back, baby!