The Prisonaires and other things

–This book looks great.

–I love winter, when the cats all want to cuddle.

–I do not love how much all of the animals love the new afghan, because it already smells bad. I need to wash it this weekend.

–I am completely sad about the story I’m working on, since it is so sad.

–But I think I’ve figured out how it fits into what comes next.

–I got to think a lot about copyright yesterday, so you know that makes me happy.

–I would just like to get the first draft of this story done. It feels like I’m constipated with it. One of the things you don’t realize about writing until you do it is just what a bodily thing it is. I was telling the Professor the other day that, when I was drafting the last part, I kept finding myself typing and then pacing and typing and pacing. I wasn’t pacing to buy time to think of what came next. I was pacing, in a way, to slow it down so that I could keep up. This story has been fits and starts and now it’s all ugh. I’m surprised my feet haven’t fallen asleep from the sitting and pushing required to get it out.

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