Third Draft Novel Blues – a prayer of sorts
Thanks for some time today and may I use it as I may. Must get back to the comforting sense that all I can do is make tiny steps and that each one draws closer to the end, and that there is nothing more that can be done. The alternate trick is to blow oneself up hoping for a day of ten thousand words. Ain’t gonna happen, so on with it. Relax–let the stitches accrue, let the inches grow to miles. And Muse, don’t be shy.