The cleaners were here this morning. When they come to clean, I retreat to a coffee shop, indulge in breakfast and latte, and plan a day. Then, I library-ed, paying a fine before taking out paper books and books on CD. Two travel books on Australia, another Percy Jackson for Julia, an Annie Lamont and some memoir for me. Then, home again for my regular round.
The near-daily round was instituted to get me writing daily—Italian practice, fiction and spiritual reading, meditation, gratitude journal. I give myself credit for house work and Julia related email. All in warm up for some pretty awful first draft fiction. <Gulp> I accept the awfulness and keep going. Day after day. Every so often I look back and find a word, a phrase, once a sentence that could be included in a second draft. Oh, I have so much ability to produce dreck. Continue reading