The age old battle of writing what you want, what the story is trying to say and the need for mass appeal.
I gave in and propped some action on the front. It was a blatant effort to grab readers on the first page, before they start drifting.
It feels so wrong now. Deleting it.
I'm proud of myself. This story is not like that.
It's about a man struggling with the things he's done over a lifetime and realizing it may be too late to make amends. The action must come out of that, not be shoehorned in.
The depression is still with me. Fuck it. It won't win. It never does. But...
Don't want to discuss it either. Just want to beat it bloody. Make it wish it had never fucked with me.
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