Sigh. I've been putting off posting about the Cup race last Saturday night, hoping I could find some nice words to describe what was, ultimately, a boring race. Yawn-inspiring. Go-home-early. Wish we had.
What was wrong, I don't know. Single-file parades around a 3/4 mile track don't happen often, but they did on Saturday. I can't remember a single Richmond race with less drama or excitement. The last fifteen laps put on a show, but until then, I couldn't have cared less. Okay, enough negativity. I'm not going to think about it again.
Working on SIGNS. After 160 pages, I've decided the 'voice' is all wrong, so it's back to square one. Some of us take longer to figure out a book's issues than others. I count myself among those who hang onto the original vision after it's clear it's not working much, much too tenaciously. The good news is, the rewrites are feeling 'right,' so I'm a happy camper. Well, getting to the 'happy' part.
Summer is here with all its humidity and glorious greenery. I realized yesterday how much I missed the green trees during the past long, cold, and dreary winter. Trees in full glory make me happy, and remind me that all is right with the world. And on that simple truth, it's time I got back to work. . . .
2 comments:
At least you're writing. I'm having a heck of a time getting words on the screen these last few days. And the words I have come with suck.
ROFLOL. I know it's not a laughing matter, but "come with suck" is dead-on. Yep, that's how it feels, you hit it on the head.
I always remember Nora Roberts saying she could fix a bad page, but not a blank one. If I keep putting the words down one after the other, maybe I'll eventually get the right ones on the page. If not, there's always 'delete.'
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