Sipping my green tea (blech!) in lieu of the Kona coffee our friends brought from the Big Island this weekend. Is there life after coffee? I'm about to find out. . .
So I'm in that place where I know I will never ever write another book. Robin, Mary, Lee, and Thalia--my super group--have all heard this too many times from me. But this time I mean it (whine.) My intention this morning was (note the tense even though it's still morning) simply to write. HA. Morning Pages kind of stuff in which I whine and bitch my little heart out, hoping against hope that I'll get to some "real" writing before the end. I picture all my writer friends happily or madly typing away on the latest drafts of their novels, wish them well, and wave as they recede into the distance. Whine.
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3 comments:
Gee, Val. It's a bit hard feeling sorry for you when you're the most prolific writer I know!(Isn't blogging great!)
But still, I do feel your pain. I'm reading The Hunger Games (again) and wish I had been the one to come up with such a fantastic plot. Wow.
Just finished rereading Story Of A Girl and felt the same way. Really want to get to Hunger Games. Soon!
First of all, all writing is real writing, even morning pages, Val.
Second of all, while you are an amazing (and amazingly prolific) author, I will admit you do have one of the most painful gestation processes on the planet. Which means you are totally entitled to whine! Absolutely!
And I ADORED Story of a Girl. Such a fabulous book. Loved it.
p.s. My word verification is "fushirit". Or maybe fu shirit. Seems like slang begging for a story, doesn't it?
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