My father and brother are playing nerf wars in the house. That wouldn't be so bad except that my room just happens to be a lovely vantage point for my brother. And this means that my father is shooting at the perfect angle to smack against my laptop screen. My brother has found that the corner between my bookshelf and the wall is the best spot to shoot from, because the ironing board against the wall makes a great bunker. He has completely neglected to notice the pile made up of papers, several posters that are waiting for sticky tac to be bought, a picture frame, and the box that my laptop came in. The picture frame may be broken by now. He's stepped all over that entire pile. And while my poster of the 2005 team of my favorite women's college basketball team was, admittedly, on its way out, it has now been seriously injured.
Did I mention that this war was taking place while I am trying to write an emotionally intense scene (March 1, 18) in The Girl with Violet Eyes? I call upon my homeschool years to get me through this. I studied everything from English to calculus with a little brother always making noise. Writing a book should be no different.
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