It is 4:10. I've nearly completed my Physics project (though it is indeed extremely crappy and the egg will probably break, but at least I'll get an 80, which is a higher grade than I normally get in that wretched class) and not done much else, but the Physics project is the only due directly tomorrow, so. Right now I'm procrastinating on the final part (making a compartment for the egg to sit in) and am catching up on blogs. I found another writer's blog to read, although I've never read any of this person's books, it looks like it will be an interesting read nonetheless. If I ever become a writer of any great merit (or even a writer of small merit) I hope to keep up a blog in much the same fashion. The more I read about this writer, though, the more I think I want to be like her, much like I want to be like Neil Gaiman, although the connection is closer here I suppose because this writer is of my same gender. However it seems like she is very close to Poppy Z. Brite, and I have read some of her work, and it's very good, but also very flowery. I worry that my writing isn't flowery enough to be considered meritorious: I think I have a good grasp on vocabulary and sentence structure and so on, but I don't think I write in such a way that people finish and say to themselves 'That was beautiful', which worries me.

Writing, as this writer explains, is extremely difficult work. It really is very, very hard, as I'm sure many of you that read this blog know. But I love it so much. I really, really do. There are times when I want to tear my hair out because I don't think I'm writing well enough or that I'm conveying it right, but I love writing so much. There's nothing quite like creating your own little world and people and their stories. It gives you a great sense of power and control, since how everything works out is entirely up to you. Wonderful feeling.