This morning I woke up sore from yesterday’s sivananda yoga, so I didn’t want to do much writing today. And I didn’t, I only did about 25 minutes. But this is an example of writing whatever you can, even if it’s tough to do and even if it doesn’t produce much, and then just walking away.
Well I finished my read-through. Copious notes were made.
I get lost in notes. I accidentally wrote a whole other novel once of just notes about a novel I was working on. It can be so immense, this mound in our minds, that it can suffocate us like an avalanche. I know: many a novel I’ve started has died under avalanches. Continue reading “Furlough 37: Play”→
I did a smidgen of editing this morning, but I couldn’t get into it. And I knew this because by the time I’d gotten to the second chapter I was editing, I wanted to delete everything I’d ever written ever. So yeah I’ll try again later. So I am thankful that I could recognize that in me and stepped away. Continue reading “Furlough 36: Frittata”→
How are you doing this week? This new week, this new spin of the wheel again? I hope you’re doing well, and if you’re not doing well, I hope you are okay and stable. Remember, it’s day to day, hour to hour, or even moment to moment. Continue reading “Furlough 35”→