There was a blizzard. That was interesting. You know, maybe instead of drinking red wine all day I should have attempted to get some writing done? I botched that opportunity. All is well though, I've got three robust and descriptive chapters carved out of the book I'm working on.
I'm kind of loving it. It's funny, when I start to really crank and get an hour or so in, the characters start to speak to me in their own voices, unsolicited by the voice of my mind. This is where some of the best stuff comes from, in my humble opinion. They tell you what they're actually wanting you to convey to the reader and sometimes make choices or conduct actions that all out surprise you. It's quite the phenomenon.
I don't have a real plan for when I'll be done. June? July? Seems reasonable. I don't want to rush the process. I couldn't rush it actually, I have to take things in stride. Too much upfront and I'll burn out. Then again, not enough writing will slowly drain any interest I have in it.
Ummm... in other news, tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day and I'm joining a friend for late breakfast food and pints. Should be fun. I don't know that anything productive will get done, but I will certainly take some pictures. I'll also take a cab.
Sláinte.
Barry