So I just got home. I went to Columbus this weekend, which is 3 hours away. Except, I can't seem to drive 3 hours anymore. No. After an hour of driving, I have to stop and take a nap. It's insanity.
Last night, I was one hour from home. It was 11:30, which is early for me.
But I could not keep my eyes open. So I slept at a rest stop, slept so hard I didn't wake up until 7 am. (We have a futon mattress in the back from the last time we went camping at DC.)
It was the same when I drove to Columbus. One hour of driving and I'm out like a light. I feel like a little baby who gets taken for a car ride to put her down for a nap.
And the funny thing is, I normally have a very hard time falling asleep!
The weekend was fun. It was a whole lot of piano, and a whole lot of writing in between. I must have thrown away six synopses before I found one that worked.
And what do I need?
Oh. My. Gawd.
Until I attempted to write a thriller, I didn't understand the research involved. It is nothing like writing a romance or mystery or fantasy. I swear, for every page of fiction you need an hour of research.
The funny thing is, I've always loved my spy thriller research.
I'm getting to the point where I just want to write the darn thing. I miss writing!
And I finish a synopsis, and guess what?
Now I need more freakin' research. I am tired of research. It's wearing out my writing chops.
I am spending a week reading. I haven't had time to finish anything since the "piano season" began. And I'm spending a week writing my next novella, so I can freakin' write. Then it's back to researching. And finishing this thriller.
I now understand why thriller authors only put out one book every one to two years.