It is official. I have scared, paranoid, ridiculous writer troll disease.
The symptoms of this disease are as follows:
- Eating too many corn chips (although, this may just be a symptom of being me)
- Yelling at the cat for trying to sit on my knee
- Yelling at the Husband Bear for … umm … waking up
- Reading my MS SIXTEEN TIMES
- Deliberating over the width of bowsprits (this is a pointy thing on a boat)
- Adding in an additional character, then removing her, then adding her again
- Giving one of my protagonists two middle names. Just because.
- Reading my previous (prequel) MS three times
- Going to the gym a lot
- Falling off the treadmill at the gym after having AN EPIPHANY
- Yelling at the Husband Bear for playing his guitar
- Yelling at the cat for wanting to be fed
- Saying over and over to anyone who will listen “You don’t understand. YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!”
- Thinking that tangerine chocolate and salt and vinegar chips is a good breakfast idea
- Obsessively wearing tights
- Going to the hairdresser because she doesn’t mind listening to me talk about shapeshifting Tasmanian tigers for an hour
- Not stopping typing when I cut my finger. Even when there is blood in my keyboard
I know. It sounds like I am an evil, nasty horrid little troll, doesn’t it (Husband Bear and Mephy the Psychotic Black Cat nod vigorously), but I am reliably informed all above symptoms are normal when a usually pretty sweet-natured person is working on a manuscript. And my symptoms have neutralised now the MS has winged its way off. But still, it would be nice to have some reassurance I am not, in fact, a troll. Reassurance? Please?