That pretty sums up my thoughts at the moment, even though it's now Monday morning. Other writing occurrences this weekend include the following:
- Painful: Realizing at midnight on Saturday night that it was not my second day off of the week--as is allowed by my commitments--but my third. It's a pretty bad idea in general, but it's especially horrifying when you have a cover to reveal on Tuesday and a book to publish in a month.
- Wonderful: I've never stopped having story ideas in my head, but getting them on paper has been torture for the past year {and then some}. I had a new idea this weekend and sketched out the summary/world-building as well as a couple of lines that wold be important to the story, just so it would be there for when I finish this madcap self-e-indie-publishing adventure. But I could feel the prologue in my bones.
First off, I don't write prologues. Everyone tells you not to, and I've never had a reason to. But this one, this one was right. And yesterday, seeing as it was Sunday and a day of rest, I wrote that prologue.
I'm not saying it's perfect, but it is good enough to make me happy, to give me a thrill of pleasure every time I read it. Is it because I've gone so long without good words pouring from my fingertips? Probably, probably. But I don't care. It's been so long since a new piece of writing has made me this happy.
I told my mom about it. She asked me if I was done with the Kindle thing. No, Mom, no, I'm not, I'm just...it's Sunday?
If it makes everyone--me--feel any better, I worked for two hours yesterday on the cover and going over notes from Robin.
What's the coolest thing you've done when you were supposed to be doing something else?
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