today is a day for minutia

Yesterday I took the day off (not so much because of the failed computer, because I write on a different computer, but because I needed it) and worked on my sunburn. It was practically the only opportunity there’s been this summer to work on it, so I did a nice job: That comparatively white stripe there is where my purse strap was slung across my body. A wise and clever Kit I am not. Yesterday my husband carried a tree home. I admired his manliness. :) It’s an apple tree!…

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you know…

Under any other circumstances, in any other world, a 2600 word writing day would be _perfectly respectable_. *More* than respectable. And instead, what am I doing? I’m taking a fifteen minute break and going back to work again. I have this fear that when I finally do finish this last push, I’m not going to know how to stop. It’s hard enough to stop my brain from thinking things like, well, if I made a really hard push in August, I could probably get TRUTHSEEKER written by early September… which…

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reading v. writing: fight!

I had sort of sullenly decided I wasn’t going to write today, and that I was going to read a book instead. So I went and looked at the (close to 100) books on the TBR shelf. And then went and wrote 1500 words on my own damned book, because I couldn’t commit to somebody else’s. It’s not you, baby, it’s me. I love you, but this relationship just isn’t going to work. I wanted to be with you, but I can see now that it’s a mistake. I’m sorry,…

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