This, from Laurie R. King, who is lost in rewrites:
It’s ridiculous. I have a life on hold, appointments to make, friendships withering on the vine for lack of attention, bee people to see, antique airplane folk to question, and here I sit, head-down over the laptop.
I want to take a class in Japanese. I want to learn to cook Thai, correctly. I want to go to someplace with sand and watch waves come and go and come and go and come and go.
Life is what happens when you’re doing other things. Like writing a book.
Anyway, this too will pass and I will emerge, blinking and growling—oh, and Muttering, too.
Yes, I feel her pain. Except I'm still in the first draft.
Back to work now.
It’s ridiculous. I have a life on hold, appointments to make, friendships withering on the vine for lack of attention, bee people to see, antique airplane folk to question, and here I sit, head-down over the laptop.
I want to take a class in Japanese. I want to learn to cook Thai, correctly. I want to go to someplace with sand and watch waves come and go and come and go and come and go.
Life is what happens when you’re doing other things. Like writing a book.
Anyway, this too will pass and I will emerge, blinking and growling—oh, and Muttering, too.
Yes, I feel her pain. Except I'm still in the first draft.
Back to work now.

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