I don't deal well with anticipation. In fiction, yes. I love the fook out of the kink Kathleen's just actually put a name to. Edging. I didn't even know that was a thing! I thought I just kind of liked writing about summat that had no real definition, but I guess I should have known better. Everything's got a name in Kink Land.
But I digress. When what I really wanted to talk about is the kind of anticipation I hate - the waiting for something that you kind of know is going to happen but maybe it won't and oh God you can't bear it.
I've learnt not to feel that sort of anticipation. I hide myself away from it, I pretend it isn't there. I won't look it directly in the face, in case it explodes.
Anticipation almost never comes to the boil when you're looking at it. You anticipate, and everything slides sideways and falls off the edge of the earth. Either that, or it takes years to come to fruition. You were expecting days, and then suddenly you're an old lady living in a Devon retirement home, and that shit still hasn't happened.
I imagine anticipation - and its sister, hope - are magical things to most people. That cake is in the fridge, just waiting for you to eat it. That huge promotion is coming your way at work, tomorrow. But to me, as a writer, I despise it.
Things almost never turn out as you imagined they were going to. You're expecting that contract with so and so over at such and such, and what you actually get is a piece of tissue someone accidentally blew their nose on, yesterday.
You can't wait to start writing, because this story is just about to take a wonderful turn...and then suddenly it all turns to dog poop in your hands and your hero is saying things you didn't want him to and your heroine is being a dipshit and oh for fook's sake, writing, why won't you let me be great?
You're just like The Sims 3. And if you don't believe me, head on over to here where I've written extensively about my problems with that particular culprit: http://writersevolution.blogspot.com/2011/08/buttons-taste-like-candy-when-you-close.html
In short: I hate anticipation. I hate how pathetic and needy it makes me, how much time I have to spend not thinking about the thing I'm anticipating. And then suddenly the thing comes, the hero does something right, my heroine was not a dipshit after all and I'm sorry, anticipation.
Oh, I'm so sorry. I was wrong. You're amazing.