I’ve been terribly, painfully critical of fanfiction as of late. Of others’, of my own, all. I don’t understand it, really; I used to enjoy just about any written word, but lately, so much of it seems so tediously wasteful of both my time and attention that I find myself struggling to finish even the first few paragraphs before clicking out and moving on to something else.
I feel this way, knowing that there are many good pieces of fanfiction that just take a few paragraphs or pages or chapters to reach their stride. Yet, not even that is enough to keep me reading.
I suppose I’ve lost a hope of sorts.
But the urge to read something really, really good is even stronger than ever. Its almost like I know that it is out there, somewhere, waiting.
cranky