1. I’ve been slogging through the same book for nearly two weeks and I’m not even at the halfway point. Part of it is me being lazy and part of it is me having a hard time getting into it, but most of it is me being terrified that it will wind up being too similar to the book I just turned into my agent and that would be TRAGIC.
2. I finally got around to ordering the Christmas gifts I promised my family, oh, you know, two months ago. Methinks I should feel more guilty about this than I do.
3. My workspace is in need of serious organization. When I write, I tend to use the genius UNBELIEVABLY STUPID method of writing down various plot points, timelines and other miscellany on about 50 different index cards, all of which are then strewn haphazardly across my desk. I waste so.much.time shuffling through them trying to find the specific one I need. I really need to a) organize them and file them away and then b) come up with a better method for the next book.
4. I’m so full of it. Of course I’m going to use the notecard method for the next book. I’m a creature of habit, and my habit, she is chaos.
5. Speaking of next books, I have two in mind and I can’t decide which one I should attempt. One is a straight-up contemporary, the other is a non-fantastical historical, and both will require a boatload of research. I have no idea why I can’t seem to write anything about topics in which I’m already well-versed. No wait, I do. Because no one wants to read a thrilling YA novel about summarizing depositions or baking bread.