I can think of nothing good that can come from cooking dinner at 3:45 pm and eating at 4:30. It means one of two things:

  1. My husband and I have aged 60 years overnight, which explains his propensity for naps and mine for cats.
  2. I’m hesitant to say the other possibility because, obviously, it’s likely the truth. I had nothing better to do.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. I had plenty to do. Work has slowed down for me significantly as the season is ending (a new one begins in about two weeks, yay!) so that’s not really what I’m avoiding. I did some housework today (although not exactly the tremendous amount of work that needed to be done), so I wasn’t shirking that responsibility either.

No, mostly I think I was avoiding my book. Part of me is more committed to being published than ever, knowing that what I’ve written is interesting, wholesome, fun, and unique. At least, I hope it’s unique. My main character’s name is Darcie. Her ‘love interest’ is named Brendan. Last night I began reading another young adult book who’s main character is named D’Arcy and who is dating a guy named Brendan. That is just freakily coincidental.

Anyway, I can’t exactly figure out what’s stopping me from making progress. I’ve given myself a deadline of August to have my rewrites complete, but at this rate it will be August 2011.

I can’t think of anything I need exactly to get me started again… I’m too much of a pansy to post the first chapter here for general critique. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I know that if I don’t stop avoiding it soon, I’m going to turn even more gray than I already am and begin going to bed at 7. And there is the distinct possibility that I could become crazier about cats than some people already consider me. This is a worrisome trend!

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