Hey, you know those literature deviations I occasionally post that five of you read? Well, you'll probably be pleased to hear that they will no longer be darkening the doorways of your inbox. From this day forth, only the luscious, honey-glazed, chocolate-filled goodness of visual art will be emerging from the gallery of TG-Garfieldo.
Unless I feel like writing again, of course.
But for those who care:
TBOS-OCT is finally over. More or less. There judges came to a tie between me and my opponents (the wonderful
hisiheyah and
simply-irenic, and I won't know the results for a few more days.
Honestly, I'm overjoyed that it's all over. The deadlines were terrifying, the nights long, and I rarely had anything to show for it other than an odd, rambling fragment of literature. Don't get me wrong; TBOS has been a hugely rewarding experiences, and I really feel like I've grown as a writer (even if such growth isn't apparent to the casual reader. Or any reader). This was my first OCT, and throughout the entire ordeal, I've felt like a clueless schmuck who somehow managed to blindly stumble his way into the finals, all while slowly ruining his health by trying to balance writing and real life (and failing fulfill all his responsibilities in either.)
And yet I'm devastated that I won't be able to join
and do it all over again.
ANYWAY. I've finally started making little changes and additions Round 6 entry. About 8,000 words were written over the course of a single all-nighter, and I'm mortified by how incomprehensible some of it is. Hopefully I'll be able to get everything smoothed out. Eventually.
P.S. Sorry for the constant self deprecation. I swear I'm not fishing for compliments; I'm just dealing with a particularly nasty bout of low self esteem.
