I’m in here hiding out at the little desk in the cupboard this afternoon. It’s quiet in here. The only sound I can hear is the grandfather clock chiming the ¾ hour.
I’m feeling kind of melancholy if you can believe this, because I reached a pivotal point in my novel where the main character is going through a crisis. He’s behaving like a total _ _ _ and I’m feeling sorry for him. I can tell it’s going to take me a couple of days to write him out of this problem. I don’t want to work any more on it today, because my eyes are tired from looking at the computer screen for so long. I am considering writing the next section by hand and then dictating it with Dragon. It will take longer, but oh my poor eyes, they need a break!
I’m feeling kind of melancholy if you can believe this, because I reached a pivotal point in my novel where the main character is going through a crisis. He’s behaving like a total _ _ _ and I’m feeling sorry for him. I can tell it’s going to take me a couple of days to write him out of this problem. I don’t want to work any more on it today, because my eyes are tired from looking at the computer screen for so long. I am considering writing the next section by hand and then dictating it with Dragon. It will take longer, but oh my poor eyes, they need a break!
I’m surprised though at how the story is effecting me. Up until now I was just cranking out the plot sort of on auto pilot, but now this guy is starting to mean something to me. I didn’t count on this happening. I wasn’t prepared for it. What's going to happen to him?
I just looked at the condition of this desk. It is covered in dust. I’ll have to go get the furniture polish and give it a swipe after a while. I guess that’s what happens to you when you are in a closet all the time, people forget about you.
The clock just struck one. Is it time for a nap yet?