While poking through my writing folder for an old piece of feedback that I'd thought was on a now-deleted ff.net story (but wasn't; damn, I guess it was e-mail feedback, which most likely means it was lost in the Great Forgot To Back Up Eudora Meltdown of 2003) I made the mistake of browsing through my old Mary Sue stuff. Which can't exactly be called fic, as none of them were stories per se, just very bad vignettes, missing scenes, family trees... setlists for nonexistent bands...
They now live in a passworded zipfile. *g* I can't bring myself to delete them entirely, but at least it should slow me down the next time I'm feeling really masochistic in the non-fun, non-spanky way.
- Is it possible to cringe so hard you turn inside out?