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.
Three Favorites from 2013
10 hours ago