Sometimes writers think of the perfect dialogue for that intense moment. Sometimes we scribble it down quickly and leave it lying around. Sometimes our spouse picks up the post-it and wonders where it all went wrong.
Just a little writing funny to share with you guys. I’ve been pretty aloof lately, a crazed woman with questionable hair holed up in the editing cave.
Mr. H is a trooper, watching me cautiously from afar.
Each day I’m drowning in stacks of paper and piles of cats, rubbing red pen off my hands, laughing at ridiculous typos, talking to myself…WAY too much, and trying to fight off bursting into tears for no reason at all.
Oh yeah…what the heck is with the English language?
I stared at the word “first” for a good fifteen minutes one day last week. I even checked merriam-webster.com. I’m still suspicious, but I guess I’ll go with it.
Our apartment is dirty, and littered with maniacal post-its. But, I’m almost ready to hand off this book of mine to another set of eyes.
Don’t worry. We will survive, as will the cats.
Writing. It’s glamorous.
Any psycho writer stories you’d like to share below? Go for it! I could use the moral support right now.