When it Rains, it Pours


So, we needed the rain. The grass was a shade of brown that I didn’t even know existed. The first day of rain was lovely. I baked beautiful cinnamon rolls. We’re on Day threeish and frankly it just sucks now.  Or it could be that my father couldn’t even be bothered to friend his only child on Facebook. Imagine that for a moment. I could go off on a rant about how socially dysfunctional FB can be these days, but then that would be boring. Like a maddened hornet with a meme complex, everyone’s been stung by FB at least once, I’m sure. Karma is a bitch after all.

Anyhow, so the book, right?

I guess I cheated a bit and actually got about 250 pages into the manuscript before I actually created this blog. For those interested, I’m actually up to Chapter 9. Given that there are 24 chapters in the outline, I still have a ways to go. And in case you haven’t done the math, I’ve got a problem in writing too much stuff, not too little. I find that slightly amusing since when I started this project I thought that there was no way that I could write a 400 page book. I’m over half way there and yet I haven’t even hit the half way point in the story. I can see there’ll be a whole heap of editing in my future. However, I’d always prefer to have too much to say then too little. I guess that’s par for the course. And those who know me know that I can do some serious talking when I’m in the right place.

The bad news in all this is that I haven’t written in about a month. With relatives coming and going (including above-mentioned father who forgets about his child) and with harvesting of vegetables and herbs, I’ve come up with every excuse not to sit down and write. Once I get going, I can knock out a chapter in a couple of days. So theoretically, I could be done in the next month or two if I could make myself stay in one location of the house for long enough. This is what you call writer’s procrastination. And unlike what one of my heros, Mr. King says, I do believe that you can really want to tell a story yet somehow fidget around it until finally you shackle yourself to your desk, turn the phone off, crank up the tunes, and blot out the rest of the world. Today should be that place. It’s almost 1PM. Ask me how much I’ve done today. Actually, don’t ask. I’d like to live in denial a wee bit longer.

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