February Grind
Hello again Reader, I’ve been a bit under two weeks out of an approximate six on board. As I’ve warned you, things in the writing department have gotten slow . I reach my point of diminishing returns in just about an hour, after which the structuring of a basic sentence becomes a chore. Or I just flat out lose track of what’s happened and what’s happening next. Also, I draw blanks more often. I’ll be hammering away, in a zen flow state, until BAM! What next? What next? Man, if that ain’t the worst feeling. It requires retreat back into the mental ZIP files where the story resides in its cosmic jumbled state, waiting to be pieced together. It doesn’t help that I’ve got that dawg watch of 4-8, which, although I sleep from about 20:30 to 3:30, leaves me a little dreary and glum, pale with dark crescents below half-open eyes. I’m a ghoul that skitters down to the mess for snacks and lunch between breaks from writing or napping or reading. Disheveled, oily and flabby are my prim...