Memo to Self:

[desperance]

When issuing challenges that demand the writing of 60K words or thereabouts - the better half of a novel - in a month, it is not a good idea to celebrate with eight or nine pints of beer.

*nods*

*flinches*

*needs coffee*

In other news: I seem to have woken up with a cold. Bloody FantasyCon. All those bloody people needing kissing, bloody bloody...

*coughs*

*sniffles*

In other news: I hate my book. It's all talk, it's going nowhere, I've lost the plot (in a very literal sense) and will something please happen? Please? Look: I have a motorbike! I have a boat! I have a girl with superhuman powers! I have a boy with six fingers on the run from mighty evil beings! I have a blindingly obvious trap he's about to walk into! How can it be this dull?

*sighs*

*goes shopping*

Comments

[fastfwd.livejournal.com]

There, there.

I'm glad you understand that when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping.:)

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Sweetie, I have always understood this. I am your total agoraphile (a word I have just new-minted, to mean a lover of marketplaces and the generic retail experience).

Also, I have just had the most flattering e-mail of my professional life, and am Feeling Better. Thank you.

[pennski.livejournal.com]

And there I was about to say "go re-read your nice email. Believe the feedback".

Plus I read that as angoraphile which is a more specific type of retail therapy.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Whoo yeah, indeed it is. I don't myself go for angora, but I have a friend who does (d'you know Richard Zimler's work? If not, go read "The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon", soon as).