It is so cold. Being a writer is not synonymous with bodily warmth. Typing, especially my kind of typing (2 maybe 3 fingers involved), is not a great way to warm the hands. And my stationery feet could be used to keep the beers chilled. We writers drink teas and coffees because hot cups stop us getting frostbite. (We drink wine and gin and whiskey for other reasons). I am not Winter's child. As we did not really get a summer this past Christmas in New Zealand, the cold now is a tad depressing. I am dreaming of tropical locations.
I am going to be less bloggery over the next few weeks as I have a big rewrite on. This is what happens when you meet with editors. Lots to do within a very short time frame. So I won't be gone for long but I may be a gibbering wreck when I return. Actually, strange and daunting as it may seem to rewrite a novel within a fortnight I am feeling jolly upbeat about this one. Nothing has changed since the last rewrite and yet everything has changed. The plan I have is not new but whatever was jamming up the works before has slipped back into place and the cogs and wheels are whirring and purring and I am rearing to go. When I am done I may post up a snippet so you can see what I have been working on. In the meantime I will post up any juicy links I see on the intramaweb (that I am not meant to be surfing on whilst I am head down bottom up slaving over a hot ms). Adios mi amigos. Till we meet again
No comments:
Post a Comment