Brendan D Carson’s Fiction: I hate my novel

No, I do. I hate my stupid novel. I hate my bimbo psychopath heroine. I hate my atheist* Christ-child. I hate my overeducated sodomite apprentice monk and my drunken skank of a soldier and I hate my fool. I hate my sexy leper and my misunderstood dog-head and my earnest and good-natured blemmye. I hate every jot and tittle – and by God, there’s a lot of jotting, and it’s packed full of tittles – I hate every pointless fight scene and every nine hour conversation.

Does this sound familiar?  It does to me.  Read the rest at: Brendan D Carson’s Fiction: I hate my novel.

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2 thoughts on “Brendan D Carson’s Fiction: I hate my novel

  1. Who here has tried revisiting a novel you wrote ten years ago–one that, in your hubris, you declared to be the next Eye of the World or Song of Ice and Fire? Do you currently find yourself wondering, “who was this maudlin, verbose freshman drama major that hijacked my word processor?”

  2. I went through that phase a little earlier this year with regards to Above Ground. I call it the mid-book slump. Now I’m past hatred and simply resigned that it won’t be as good as I originally thought, but it won’t be awful, either. :-P

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