COLLAPSES IN WET, SOGGY HEAP

Too many personal problems to list and almost 77 000 words later:

I’ve finished the first draft of the novel.

Now for the line-editing. I’ve got a couple of agents asking to see the first 3 chapters and synposis, so that’s the first priority. Then all I have to do is smooth out all the dead ends I threw in over the last umpteen months, and polish it until it looks like I meant every word.

Dead easy 🙂

WHAT A BUTCH WAY TO INJURE YOURSELF……

2 months before Erin was born, I was involved in a car accident when the driver of another car decided stop signs were for other people, and blessed me with a lifetime of chirporactor bills.

A straight spine may be the shortest journey between hips and skull, but I’m made of more interesting stuff than that. Of particular fun is the spot just between my shoulder blades, where the spine takes a 20 degree turn to the left. The chiro keeps putting it back where it belongs, but every now and again…

I rolled over in bed the other morning. That was all. Just rolled over. Spine went pop. Audibly.

My chiro had better name his next boat after me, that’s all I’m saying. At least I can stand up straight again.

NORMAL BUSINESS HAS BEEN RESUMED

Thanks to Luscious, the depression has passed. And hopefully, the block as well. I owed Mynxii a single-panel cartoon for the next Swancon progress report, and drawing it the other day seems to have released something: I’ve come up with the plot for my Eidolon story, plotted out my Fading Twilight story, and best of all, worked out what happens to finish the novel and written 800 words of same.

Lyn’s out with the kids all afternoon, so I’ll get some more done today as well. Thank goodness that’s over, until the next time.

I DON’T KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS

I’m part of the workforce again, as of Monday. Unavoidable, and it’s exactly the kind of part-time job I wanted, but I find myself in deep ambivalence about the whole thing. Thing is, anything that isn’t writing or being at home with my wife and children is an interruption, nothing more or less.

Ah well, can’t have everything. I don’t want to work, but lifestyle demands. Better get off my arse and sell this novel…