Excellent day; sunny and crisp.
I seem to have caught a cold; or a cold has caught me, so, in celebration, I’ve ordered in a pair of Mr. Bean’s Wicked Good Slippers and a flannel jacket-shirt lined with fleece, in orange plaid. Because orange plaid was on sale, and brought the price down from Ruinous to Merely Outrageous.
What else? I’ve meditated for two days in a row, been to the gym, and managed to get to bed at a reasonable hour. I did sleep in this morning, but it wasn’t my fault! Three coon cats ganged up on me and held me under the covers.
I have been remiss in mentioning here that Pinbeam Books has committed The Tomorrow Log to paper. Here’s your link. I note that it is also and has since 2011 been constantly available as an ebook from all the Usual Suspects, though Amazon seems unwilling to associate the two editions in its catalog.
I’ve been slowly slipping back into Fifth of Five, which does indeed seem to be aspiring to the working title Monkey Business. We shall see. In the meanwhile, I’m glad Neogenesis gave me all that practice in writing in chunks, ’cause that’s how this one wants to be written, too. Yes, yes, I said never again. The author is always the last to know.
Today, in honor of the cold, and despite sleeping in, I have placed NAP on the to-do list, along with the other glamorous tasks that fall to a working writer, such as cleaning the cat fountain, straightening away at least some of this stuff, doing the dishes, oh, and actually working on the manuscript.
I’ll try to get back to reporting progress, though a total word count isn’t really going to be possible — see writing in chunks, above.
Yesterday, then, I added 850 new words to the WIP and cleaned up some really rugged sentences. The manuscript, in, I hesitate to say total, weighs in at something more-or-less close to 35,000 words. This counts. . .cohesive chunks.
Everybody confused now? Good. Have a snippet:
The little Healer was not a monster, though he had wielded necessity like a surgeon’s knife, terrifying in his virtue.