Throwing Little Thought Pebbles at Your Windshield Since 1996
It’s interesting to write a novel. Everything that happens to you in real life can somehow be twisted into something useful. I was lying awake in bed last night, and to keep myself from being grumpy that I couldn’t fall asleep, I started thinking, okay, so I could give the protagonist insomnia, and this is how it feels. This is what she’s thinking.
Of course, because I didn’t write anything down, I don’t remember what I came up with.
Only 513 words tonight. I’m turning in early. I hit a new chapter, and decided I’d rather work on it during the day. It’s been a long one, and after working all day, coming home and making dinner (yes, I did and I have witnesses) and actually doing the dishes as soon as we were done, I’m done for the day.
AHHH! I don’t have access to the most recent version of the file! I hate that. I really do. Okay, I think I remember what was happening when I stopped writing today.
Hey, maybe this will be good. I’ll just start with the next plot point (plot? that’s a good one) and fill in those blanks after December 1st.
