#so i obediently go lie back on the loveseat to think through Adam Fell’s sheninagans some more

[nicnacsnonsense]

Thank you! Honestly, I envy the ability to buttonmash at times. Like, you see all this advice about “don’t worry if the words are perfect or not, just get them on the page! You can always come back and fix them later.” And brain’s up here like “haha, no. Get away from that computer; we’re not typing a single thing until it’s 100% exactly perfect.”

Random writin' thought:

Someone mentioned, in an AO3 comment on If Not Now, When, that they were basically dying of second-hand embarrassment from reading Crowley's slow destruction, and they asked whether it was hard for me to write for the same reason. And the answer is... no, honestly not. For the most part, when Crowley is being a disaster, I'm at the keyboard grinning wickedly as I try to think of ways for him to put his foot in it even worse. Oh, yes, he could say *this* accidentally-flirtatious thing, but... ohh, but it's even more blatant if he says *that*. Yessss. Suffer, my son, sufferrrr. Plainly Aziraphale is blushing neon red because you're humiliating him, and not because in his secret heart of hearts he is thinking oh my goodness I hope that you mean it That Way my dear but I'm sure I scarce dare to dream.

But what's super hard, in an emotional sense, for me to write is the Tenderness and the Yearning. I feel it very strongly in my soft little heart as I work -- I'll get the same sort of fluttering in my chest and swoopy feeling in my stomach that I do when reading tender things -- and I'll actually have to stop, repeatedly, letting myself come down a little bit from it before I come up with more words. I'm in a bit right now in chapter 8 where they're both coming *so close* to using their words, *almost*, if even one of them was competent at reading the room then there would be So Many Kisses in this fancy French restaurant, but hahahaha whoops. And it's slow going, because oh my goodness I *feel* it. So I hafta switch back to my browser and check my email repeatedly. Or play Tents And Trees.

Writer pals, I'm really curious now. Is there a kind of scene that always messes you up while you're writing it? Death via second-hand embarrassment, or via Tender Yearning Softness, or something else?