My esteemed colleague likes to sell herself short. Her "rambling" reads to me like absolutely hilarious character-building. Not that I've had the chance to read Chapter 6 yet.
But God forbid this blog become a forum for critique partner backscratching. I don't even know if that would be interesting for the parties involved to read.
Chapter 14 is proceeding at a slow and intermitent pace. I was unfortunately Potterized for much of the week and studying for the GREs the rest of it. What was I thinking, telling myself I could read the last five chapters of Half-Blood Prince and then get any of my own writing done? The tissues came out about 50 pages before the "Fin" (who am I kidding, I never have tissues on hand-- the deli napkins, I should say) and I cried solidly for an HOUR after finishing the book. Then I went to the computer, sat in front of the keyboard, positioned my fingers for writing and wailed, "But he was my faaa-vooo-riiiite." And yes, I am 25.
But tonight, I have no distractions and no excuses. I am making a big bowl of lemon-parmesean angel hair pasta (courtesy of my girl, M Diddy), locking the doors, unplugging the tv, sending the boyfriend to a baseball game and settling in for what I hope will be hours of uninterupted writing time. On a Friday night. And I'm excited.
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