The daily schedule has returned to a semblance of normal. In theory, that should translate into a return to writerly productivity.
Jeez, I crack me up sometimes.
Still reading through Wet Work . . . in between my classic avoidance behaviors. Truly, how many friggin’ games of Minesweeper can one man play? (Rhetorical question, gang. You don’t really want to know.)
Harsh truth needs to be faced: I’m alarmingly low on motivation and inspiration.
I suppose I could spend some time cataloging the reasons, but really, do they matter? It’s just the writing life, folks–more ups and downs than Robert Downey, Jr.’s career.
Still, I take a modicum of encouragement from some new ideas that the read-through is generating, which should result in a tighter story. I have another eight chapters to review. I should be able to have them read by the weekend. Then I can dive into the rewrite proper. Maybe if I really buckle down, I’ll have a second draft finished by the end of May.
Jeez, I crack me up sometimes.
Thank you, thank you. I’m here all week.
No updates for Write Club.
Exiting stage left . . .
