February Sweeps - Day 20

I know, you're in awe of me.  You're thinking, I've been reading these the last few days, leaving me wondering, how can one man be so cool, and yet so underconfident?

Well, we all have good days and bad days.  Today was more of the latter.  And you can't beat yourself up when you have them.

After yesterday, when I had three different writing sessions (and went running twice), today could only be a step down.  And it was, for some reason, a bit busier than the last couple of days.  Oh, because I worked for actual money today instead of the other kind.  Oh, I see.

That reminds me, I had a conference call about a paid writing gig this morning, and the first thing that occurred to me when I hung up was, "They're gonna find out you're not right for this, and you're going to get fired.  Maybe you shouldn't even try."  Apparently, that's called Imposter Syndrome, and I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that I murdered the real Rish Outfield in 2001 and took his place.  Hmmm. 

I sat in the car for a few minutes (couldn't have been longer than twenty), and wrote on my "Dead & Breakfast" story.  I didn't get very far, mostly because I'm aware I need to do some research in order to adequately describe what happens next.

If I don't write any more today (and I might), I think I'm still close to 30,000 words for the month.  I'm going to go for a run and see what occurs to me.

Don't forget, kids:

WHY did I not buy this shirt??

Well, I was wrong.  Wrong to do any of this.  That seems pretty clear.

When I came back to the house, my brother-in-law had locked the door behind me.  That was fine, I knew where the hide-a-key was.  But I searched for it in the dark, and . . . big shock, it was gone.

Luckily, my nephew had not gone to sleep yet (despite it being a half hour past his bedtime), and he was kind enough to let me in.  I have to say that it soured my mood a little bit.

I spent an hour or so dicking about on the internet, then, feeling restless, I sat down and recorded a Jason Sanford story he sent us in--checking now--2016.  He's an excellent guy with an enormous talent, and he recently shared his fiction anthology with me, which made me cry like a little girl with a skinned knee watching her parents make a baby sister they are bound to love more . . . in her own bed.  I hope Sanford knows how much his work touched me.

If there's a creative person you know that has done so for you, please, let them know.

After that, I still had miles to go before I sleep, and though I'm tempted to write a little bit more (didn't get a thousand words in), I think I might listen to music and lay back and think of England for a while.  Seems like a nice place.

Aww, eff it, I'm going to write at least the first meeting between Mason and Rowan.  Shouldn't take long.

I did.  Could feel worse.

Words Today: 1438
Words Total: 30,409