Writing (Or, Shoot Me Now)

I spent the entire day at this computer, hunched over, writing. Editing my novel is no longer a euphemism: my browser history is filled with maps of Boston, I am blind in one eye, I haven't showered and I still forced myself to leave the house for a seminar on the generational divide in the city of Ann Arbor. Because I am a warrior, but also because they had free wine.

If interested, here is the write up--it will be like you're actually there, but shorter and mildly funnier. I am going to wash my hair.

National Novel Editing Month Count: 4 hours.
Forty-six to go.


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