Today, writing a book felt exhilarating, overwhelming, possible, and im. Watching the word count inch upward felt empowering, frustrating, satisfying, and un. Reviewing thirty pages of completed text felt gratifying, depressing, heartening, and dis. And posting about my progress now feels rewarding, presumptuous, so very normal, and so very ab.
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I LOVED this post! Love! Not un.
You write book, I buy book.
I feel that way about getting a measly blog post up every day. HA!
In fact, if I lived nearby, I would GIVE you free maid services just so that you’ll continue fulfilling the role of book writer (so I don’t have to 😀
Thank you all. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And I would totally take you up on the maid offer, Jo. 🙂