When it comes to working on projects, we tend to use delay tactics as an excuse for creative inspiration. Or is it the time away how we conceive brilliant creations? I don't know. Right now I'd rather mow my landscape jungle down to kinda sorta resemble a lawn than edit the novel. Today I can use the excuse of doing it while the cool morning air hasn't been heated to what I consider searing temperatures. I'll refrain and cut the grass tomorrow. Maybe.
In the silence as I drove home last night, it dawned on me what I just told a writer friend was kinda sorta incorrect. I used the phrase “I'm editing” which really isn't accurate. Hackin' and whackin' is more like it. Whole chapters lobbed off the pages. Three of the nicest unnecessary characters I grew fond of will be missed dearly. A chance meeting won't take place... Huh.... A rather large crow (not a raven) just flew past the office window and is now hopping from tree limb to tree limb. Crows seemed to always be around when a dear friend and author wrote and did talks of her trilogy. Must be Elizabeth's way of telling me to quit babbling and get to work.
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