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[personal profile] pegkerr
I have decided that I have left the first level on the book and proceeded to the next. You are all, of course, aware, that there are at least seven stages of writing a novel:

The book
The stupid Book
The damn Book
The g*damn Book
The f*ing Book
The motherf*ing book
The motherf*ing book from hell

I have definitely proceeded to Stage 2 and am now working on the stupid book. I have felt rather ill the last few days, weirdly jagged out, as if I'm dumping extra adrenaline, not wanting to eat, queasy stomach, loathe to exercise. Working on the book is definitely not very alluring. Other projects (any other projects) seem oddly more tempting. Like gardening, cleaning the kitchen, trimming my toenails. I actually went into work early the last few days rather than sitting down to glare at my novel during my morning writing time. I told myself that I was doing so because I was making up time I'd lost when I took Delia to the doctor earlier this week. This is, of course, a complete and utter lie. I was avoiding the work. But aha, I have at least enough self-insight to know that's exactly what I was doing.

Maybe going to Wiscon will get me fired up again. And THIS time I'm taking my laptop along (chortles with glee).

Peg
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pegkerr

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