I’m in the middle of a volunteer project that got out of hand. It’s sucking my time like you wouldn’t believe. To make a long story short, I’m typing in a bunch of recommendation letters and application forms into a web survey. You wouldn’t believe how many adjectives and adverbs are in those types of letters! I want to throw up!
And have you ever noticed that whenever someone uses the word "renowned," you’ve never heard of the renowned person? I mean, if they were truly renowned, then you would have heard of them, and they wouldn’t need to describe them as renowned.
I dreamed a scene as I was waking up, and it was good: the beginning of a novel. What bothers me is I can never seem to have those dreams of scenes that jumpstart a book for something real name could write; they’re all only for pseudonym’s stories. This bothers me on so many levels I can’t even tell you. I love my little niche, but it’s not NY material.
I’ve always said that if you keep throwing energy in a certain direction, things start happening in that direction. So I’ll just trust that I’ll find that passion for some NY niche. I hope.
There was no mail today. If you’re self-employed, you’ll understand why I’m going to say again, "Oh well."
To end on a good note, DH left five messages on our voice mail. One to play to each cat every night (Dixie Doodle, especially, gets really depressed when Daddy’s gone. She handles it better if she hears his voice every day.), and one for me.
Onward and upward.
How’s your week shaping up? And you all write NY-directed stories. Do you feel that gripping passion for stories right off? Or is it a gradual seduction?