Friday Forays In Fiction: Junk It Funks

Ever feel like giving your files to the cat to play with?

The project of printing hard copy is not going well. In fact its not going at all. When I open the file I'm thinking of printing I fiddle and fuss and flit about the other fifty files to remind myself of things done there that effect things here and visa versa. And when the scope of the story arc that covers the entire FOS story world begins to sink in I begin to feel like I'm sinking into a sinkhole created by a leaking septic tank. And I begin thinking what's the point of printing off this dreck? Of what use would it be other than for litter box filler or toilet paper?

When I look at the title list of the WIP or the character rosters with some fifty significant characters (story carrying POV) and the hundreds of others ranging from major to minor I wonder if I've even got enough time left to finish all of them. For sure not if all of them are full length novels of 80K+ words for that would put me in my late 70s unless I could pull off a pace of better than one per year. Based on past behavior that's hardly likely.

What if I knew for sure I only had time for one? Whose story would I choose? And what about all the new story ideas both in and out of the FOS story world which I've developed an averson of committing even a few jottings to paper or screen for fear of further overwhelming myself; for fear of becoming attached to yet another character I can't give the required TLC to?

What does one do when the place in your mind where the stories live begins to resemble a roll of toilet paper unfurled by a kitten?