I woke up earlier than I intended and thought it would be a great time to write. Then, the mystery started. Where the hell was my laptop? I couldn't remember if my husband brought my work bag in the previous night.
You see, we had all been at a great Kentucky Derby Party (don't ask), and someone, had a number of delicious shots of tequila. Someone.
Well, as it turns out, my son stayed up watching The Walking Dead on my laptop, until midnight. It was nestled in the covers.
Now, I am slowly pecking away at my novel. I am embarking on new territory with the plot, so we will see. I will post more of the draft, as soon as I can. Yes, it is a draft.
Oh, wait, I had a revelation/epiphany regarding my ideal readers which I can't find. Yes, I have editors, but I need my ideal readers to go over my full drafts.
Anyway, when I was in college, I was always looking for love in all the wrong places. One day, I said fuck it to the Universe, and started doing what I loved and taking care of myself. Once I stopped looking, I found my true love. I think desperately searching for the ideal reader may be the same thing. I keep putting myself out there and asking people to read my work, and no one has time.
So you know what?
I don't want YOU to read my work or make substantive comments and offer constructive criticism. Here or here or here!
I can do just fine on my own, Universe.
Today, tell the Universe to suck the tip of your pen. #Resist (but not like these posers claiming to be part of the resistance, like Hillary.)
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