I was felled by a headache—not only did I miss work, but I couldn’t write, which, in my mind, is far, far worse. I think I’m overwhelmed. I think I’m having trouble facing life. If it were just me and the novel, I think I’d be fine. But who has a non-busy life leisurely walking down the sidewalk just you and your novel? I have to go to work now. I’m really tired.

p.s. No Twitter until the first draft is complete.

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