Oh yes, it has been quite the hiatus. It’s been so long, that I even had time to stop feeling guilty about it. It’s part of the process isn’t it? The book sits upon my dresser, half marked up with first edits and with folded laundry on top of it. Come on, at least it’s CLEAN laundry.
Sometimes I crack it open to look at it and I realize that it is what it is, and it’s where it's meant to be at the time…unfinished. However, I do feel myself being drawn into the story once again. My characters are sitting there suspended in time, wondering if I am ever going to fix awkward scenes and hoping for better outcomes. In my head Kate sits there smoking a cigarette, begging me to cut out all of the scenes where she makes a fool out of herself with men. Fat chance.
Well, maybe I will get the urge to sit down and read through it again this weekend. Where will I put the laundry?
