4×10 day off, beautiful overcast sky, perfect day for writing. Debating what would be the best sacrifice to cajole my muse and the gods of storytelling: burnt offerings, fresh blood, or coffee.
Yesterday I was the sole editor in the office, which left me such fine choices as to how to spend my day as napping, writing, or working on Dragon*Con prep. As it turned out, I did not nap, but I did do some D*C work, and got out The Stupid Novel. Maybe I can crank out a couple more chapters today?
Y’know, I thought when opting to work 4×10 weeks that I would prefer Fridays as my day off, but I’m finding that I really like Wednesdays. Two days on, one off, two on, two off, lather-rinse-repeat seems particularly accommodating to my busy schedule of insomnia. I don’t get wiped out after two days of insufficient sleep, and then I have a day or two to sleep in and recover. Me likie.
Hmmm, since I’m still home today, apparently I like Wed. off, too. My next-door neighbor, who shrinks families, always has Wed. off — maybe she’s onto something?
How’re the novel chapters progressing? I hate/love novel-writing. You zap along beautifully for weeks, months, even years, piling on word-after-word-after-word. Then you get to edit the nasty little suckers who are still there, word-after-word-after-word. It’s a soul-sucking experience, IMHO.