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I'm quoting Giles there before you throw things.
::smooches your rebellious selves forgivingly::
I have an overflowing inbox so if I owe comments -- well I know I do, there's no 'if' about it -- I'm sorry, but I wrote about 800 words of my book in my head as I tried to summon up the energy to get out of bed and I'm trying to get it down on something a little more permanent than my braincells.
It's fatal doing that. You mentally compose all this snappy dialogue, scorching smut and zippy exposition and when you start to transcribe it, it flops like a souffle. Or something else that looks impressive until you touch it. Pops like a soap bubble? Whatever.
Back to writing.
I only stopped because there was this weird noise and after it'd repeated three times I cottoned on that Mac had a huge chipmunk cornered in the kitchen and it was squeaking. Rescued it and guided it out into the garden as the girls freaked and did some squeaking of their own.
::smooches your rebellious selves forgivingly::
I have an overflowing inbox so if I owe comments -- well I know I do, there's no 'if' about it -- I'm sorry, but I wrote about 800 words of my book in my head as I tried to summon up the energy to get out of bed and I'm trying to get it down on something a little more permanent than my braincells.
It's fatal doing that. You mentally compose all this snappy dialogue, scorching smut and zippy exposition and when you start to transcribe it, it flops like a souffle. Or something else that looks impressive until you touch it. Pops like a soap bubble? Whatever.
Back to writing.
I only stopped because there was this weird noise and after it'd repeated three times I cottoned on that Mac had a huge chipmunk cornered in the kitchen and it was squeaking. Rescued it and guided it out into the garden as the girls freaked and did some squeaking of their own.