I can't say I've been feeling all that great as of late. Body is sore from having to haul large furniture, and chop hard furniture to pieces, dragging trashcans full of broken wood. Cleaning cat waste and hosing down the basement, crawling underneath a porch. Doing so much all to make this big move happen. And yet still 56 pages and still rising. I cannot commit to as many pages a day as I would like. I have a story that just screams to be told. Maybe once this traumatic move is over and things settle down I'll finally be able to get back to work on it.
(56 and counting)
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