Or so I’ve always been told. I’ve been lucky enough not to have to deal
personally with too many of the beady-eyed vermin in my life, so I’ve just
assumed the old saying was true.
Well…
*coughs into hand, cheeks pinken
slightly at the foolishness about to be said…*
Apparently, my half-written Book Three is suffering from a nasty case
of rat infestation.
Really.
After a week of not touching, not even peeking at the darn thing, I
innocently opened up the 23K+ words yesterday and screamed… (Well, not
literally. Even I have a crazy limit.)
Anyhow, all 23K+ words of little ol’ Book Three had apparently taken my
week away in the mountains to run amuck amongst themselves.
Really.
There is no way I left that novel in that condition!
Scenes all helter-skelter…
Order a foreign concept…
Bits here…
Bits there…
Bits every-freaking-where!
And since I am a very orderly (sane), very disciplined (sane), very
experienced (Hello! 16 novels and counting!) writer this mess is clearly,
inarguably NOT MY FAULT!
Really.
I blame the mice.
So there.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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