Don't relax yet, Great Quibbler. I shall still want your input.
So... damn... tired. But seeing as I didn't even accomplish yesterday's goal, it's time to put the nose to the ol' grindstone.
How the hell can it only be Monday? I thought it was at least Wednesday when I woke up this morning.
I understand the appeal of saving everything. And I used to do that. But I'd open up my folder, see a dozen files looking at me, and feel guilty for not finding homes for everything. I'd wonder if I really liked the version I had best. And I'd never actually finish things.
They don't say Injure Your Darlings. Murder them.
Yay for taking them to the pool and using that membership!
Hockey or reindeer tonight?
And have you thought about hockey-playing reindeer?
Fair enough. If the thought that you'd let go of something you shouldn't have is going to cause you anguish, it's silly to let go of it. Not like there's any practical limit to the number of .doc's you can save on your machine.
For me, personally, having it lying around makes me think that I should be sweeping through those files from time to time to find salvage, and that causes more anguish than the thought that maybe I could have used something does. I type fast, and I rewrite everything several times anyway, so the cost of writing a scene over again that I'd written before (but would probably hate if I reread anyway) is minimal. YMMV.
I once had a friend who Dove right in and kept all sorts of things in case he needed them, and, like Woodrow Call, he ended up Lonesome because of it.
OK, that was bad. I'm no good at puns.
(btw, saw that you kept the napoleons line at the end of Viva la Corse. Thanks!)
(psst... vive is French, Viva is a brand of paper towels.)
