I didn't do any writing yesterday, except for the little bit of blue pen revision at my desk.
[morning] Right now I'm so completely dissatisfied with my life, with my bum knees and softball going away, the house dragging us down so thoroughly, money always an issue, and just a general malaise. Mind you, I remind myself constantly that I've got a damned good life, but I still dwell on the negatives. One of the negatives right now is that I'm not writing every day.
[afternoon] I wrote for a few minutes right after lunch, but was interrupted. Still, I suddenly got a better idea of how the killing Grandma Opal chapter starts. I kept the first sentence, which was pretty cool, and now I'm going with Kelsey and her feelings more, and describing what's going on rather than expecting the audience to just "know". Duh.
The whiny story of slogging through writing my first novel.
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