In which the author is boring

So, I’ve been writing — nothing to see here; move along.

I hope to have a finished penultimate draft by the end of the week, by which I mean Saturday.  The manuscript will then rest a couple days while I lie on the couch and regrow my brain.  Then, I’ll go through it with  a red pen for the final edit before submission.

Have I mentioned here that I’ve begun taking yoga?  It turns out that one of the instructors from the local yoga studio also teaches two mornings a week at the senior center, for significantly less than the studio charges.  I’ve been to two yoga classes, and have, surprisingly, enjoyed myself.  I will, I think, be doing this for a while.

Tomorrow, the electrician and his mate will be here at 9! a.m.! to install ceiling fans, and I expect to write some more.

. . .that’s all I got.

* * *

Progress on Carousel Seas

92,944/100,000 OR 93% complete

“And be an instant celebrity with everybody’s got a gambling debt suddenly remembering how you’re their long-lost cousin on their mother’s side.”

4 thoughts on “In which the author is boring”

  1. Sharon, when you re-grow your brain…..
    does it have the same structure and shape?
    Or does it develop in a whole new way?

  2. When I regrow my brain after committing novel, it is of course a different shape. Every story written alters the way the writer thinks about and experiences the universe.

  3. Thanks! It’s oddly. . .soothing to have an hour when the only thing I have to think about is stretching and breathing.

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