After a relaxing weekend at a volleyball tournament in Chicago (my wife and I are kind of nuts about that sport), I'm back into the swing of things. Back to work, back to work. The Footsteps of Cain is coming together, narrative-wise; I think I may have worked through some problems and found a better way to place some hooks in the beginning to pull the readers through. LOL, I'm sure this is really compelling considering the non-specificity I'm providing. I guess I'm sadistic. You shall not know until you know!
If you'll ever know, that is. I'm trying to hit this thing as hard as I can over the next couple months...make as much progress as I can before the holidays hit with their car trips and multi-Christmases and bustle. I hate taking breaks from the work...I'd rather live and breath it until it's done. Yet, as usual, the real world leaks in no matter how airtight my bubble is. I wonder if there's a solitary cabin at the top of a mountain somewhere that I could get a lease on? Yeah, just me, an old-timey typewriter, a bear-skin (for some reason) coat, and a scraggly beard, pounding away at an obsession, until one day I could descend from the peaks clutching those precious pages, half-mad.
Nah, I'd never survive it. No internet connection? I mean, come on. The inane, unborn tweets would build up in my brain until I had a mental cave-in.
And so, precious Time and I are fleeting partners. So why am I blogging when I should be working on the WORK? Good question, maybe-you and me. Off I go. Have yourself a merry little Tuesday.
If you'll ever know, that is. I'm trying to hit this thing as hard as I can over the next couple months...make as much progress as I can before the holidays hit with their car trips and multi-Christmases and bustle. I hate taking breaks from the work...I'd rather live and breath it until it's done. Yet, as usual, the real world leaks in no matter how airtight my bubble is. I wonder if there's a solitary cabin at the top of a mountain somewhere that I could get a lease on? Yeah, just me, an old-timey typewriter, a bear-skin (for some reason) coat, and a scraggly beard, pounding away at an obsession, until one day I could descend from the peaks clutching those precious pages, half-mad.
Nah, I'd never survive it. No internet connection? I mean, come on. The inane, unborn tweets would build up in my brain until I had a mental cave-in.
And so, precious Time and I are fleeting partners. So why am I blogging when I should be working on the WORK? Good question, maybe-you and me. Off I go. Have yourself a merry little Tuesday.
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