Facing the day with an eviscerated novel in my lap is making me want to do housework. Why is it so hard when you want to get it right and do better and finish? Where to start? How to start?
Yes, the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, but that first step feels like it’s off a mountain.
Update One: Binder is open. Cap is off pen. Writer is staring into space (as if the answer will float through the room).
Update Two: Binder, pen, and writer went for a drive and tried to donate blood. That didn’t work either. Writer still has all her blood but no freaking ideas.
Update Three: Writer decided to make art and listen to David Lynch talk about consciousness, creativity, and the brain. The binder and pen wait–maybe they’re meditating.