Keep Moving

I often fall into puddles of Gorilla Glue.

I’ll be strolling along, keeping up a nice clip on the authorial road to novel done-ness, when I inevitably trip over a nice, benign scene.

The next thing I know I’ve face-planted myself in a glob of cement-like ick that refuses to let me or the story move on until I fix whatever needs fixing.

Usually, I don’t mind this. I don’t. But when a deadline is three days away and I’m running on my last literary breath, I could really do without the freaking stuckness!

That said, pardon the gore. I ripped my face out of a spot of Gorilla Glue yesterday and will be quite messy to look at for a while.

Five peas off the plate Wednesday. Fourteen to go!

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Post-note: Yesterday’s “Counting Peas” blog will explain that last little bit. So, no, I haven’t gone completely bonkers quite yet.

The Honey Directive

If I ever, ever get it in my fool head again to write a story about six brothers instead of let’s say the manageable two or three, please slap me silly.

Lock me in a cupboard amongst the canned peas.

Tackle me to the floor and bind my fingers together with gorilla glue.

Wrestle me into a hoop skirt and stuff me up the chimney.

Tie me to a tree in the front yard, slather me with honey and call in the bees.  

Whatever it takes, just stop me!

Thank you.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe