Lots of talking with Kate yesterday, mostly about her book, which I read the first chapter of, and I was underwhelmed. It was obvious, probably because I'm familiar with her writing, that she was writing in an "inferior" genre, and that her heart wasn't really in it. I told her as much, and I hope I wasn't out of line.
I got my briefcase organized again, but I only wrote about three sentences. Today I'll be upstairs at four o'clock, so I should be able to get some writing done.
And of course I got Birdie's cold. I haven't been sick ALL WINTER, but last night my throat got sore and I slept like the dead from 8:00 to 4:45, when I woke up despite not having set my alarm.
The whiny story of slogging through writing my first novel.
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