As you know, Bob, I stuck an END at the bottom of the Faerie Show fic yesterday. I went over it today at CONduit. I figured out how to spell "faerie" consistently, using find and replace to fix the times I used "faery" instead. *facepalm* I also found a piece of a scene which was basically a repeat of a previous scene, so I had to fix that as well. I did some tweaking here and there on other stuff too.
The good news is, I still like it.
The bad news is, it's got the lamest last line ever. Seriously, guys, this is capital-B Bad. I'm going to have to come up with something a whole lot better than this if I want to send it to Writers of the Future.
Also, a title would be good. "Showing Faeries for Fun and Profit"? Eh, I don't know. There's precious little profit being made by my protags here, and this is normal, as those who show dogs and cats know full well. At the same time, hey, catchy title.
Is it twee? You bet your ass it is. Am I ashamed of myself? Not a bit. I own the twee-ness here. This is not meant to be anything other than what it is, and twee is a big fat part of it. Light and fluffy, hopefully somewhat humorous, and hopefully something that will leave my readers with a smile on their faces. Fortunately, it's way over wordcount for Clarkesworld, so nihilistic_kid won't have it inflicted upon him. However, it's different enough that I think another editor might look twice at it.
In other news, I may poke the A&tS fic a bit, just to see what comes out. This will, naturally, entail reading the damb thing again and incorporating whatever changes that Bob suggested that I agree with. And figuring out an emotional catharsis for the character will be a chore. Remember what I've said about being emotionally stunted? Yeah, that. *grumbles*
Also, I have to decide what's "next" on my writing list. I opened the Plot Bunny Hutch yesterday to see what hopped out, and they all stubbornly stayed put. Blah.
AND. Starting tomorrow: I will take ONE HOUR out of each day, minimize all my windows but the WordPerfect one, and WRITE, dammit. And I expect you all to beat me if I don't. I'm going to set my kitchen timer and tell Da Boy and the Hubby to leave me be, and everything, possibly move to another room. Because, seriously, I shouldn't take over two months to write something like this, y'all. Five hundred words a day, and I could have had it banged out in a week and a half. I'm feeling rather monumentally stoopid right now.