So, for the first time since last Wednesday, I hit the library, with a bit of extra time to spare, and did what I could to write. One of my goals this month was to finish either "The Washer Whispers," which I reckon is about two-thirds done, or "Balms & Sears," which is nearly--94 to 96%--done. I chose the latter, and remembered back in August that I'd gotten an idea for a little page long prologue, so I wrote that bit, and with around five minutes left before they kicked us out, I tackled the very last bit of the story. I wrote about two paragraphs, and then typed "the end," always in lowercase, as is my custom. They did make their announcement as I was saving the file, and emailed it to myself, suddenly afraid that all the work I'd done would be lost if I didn't get it sent to me in time, and then left for home, where I recorded with Marshal Latham for a little while.
Then it was up to me to achieve what I'd failed to do the night before: finish Abbie's book. I had one and a half chapters to record, as well as the author's note (I also had told my five year old nephew that I would draw him a turtle for his preschool class, the blank piece of paper right on my desk to remind me). Well, I didn't struggle with sleep this time, and got through all of it, including the re-lines of Thistle for Chapter 15, the author's note, and the copyright for the end. I was thrilled at my accomplishment*, checked the clock (it was about five minutes to two), and happily dismantled my microphone, drank some water, checked my emails, and went to sleep, a job well done.
Except my nephew Taysom's turtle picture. I'd blown it on that.
Hey, I'm exactly at the halfway point!Exercise: Yes (22)
*Of course, the editing will be hellish, and I'll probably have to scramble to make the deadline, despite all this September productivity.
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