Today was: taking the day off work and writing in a white haze, as quickly as I could type, linking the visions I had together with words; and, when the dust had settled (and two coffee shops and two battery charges later), discovering that I had written 12,000 words in one day to finish at 6:30pm at the Borders in Los Gatos, resulting in a novel, in its first and roughest form. It needs to be longer, and needs so much editing it’s painful, but on the whole I’m very glad that I did this.
Today was: being bothered by past ghosts, and following a kindly given yet strict regimen of Joy Division and Smiths in order to try and conquer them.
Today was: bocce ball, and dinner with friends, and going home.
Today is: bed.
Comments are moderated whenever I remember that I have a blog.
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