Dude, Where's My Muse?
Saturday, April 12, 2008
So this afternoon, I have the house to myself. I have my binders on my desk ready to work. I find the first group of pages to type in the binder and get to typing. Finish those, go to grab the ones out of the folder so I can double check what else I need for a few others scenes so I can email a few more questions and there is NO folder. Nadda. Nothing. So picture a panicked writer, thinking what if it fell somehow into the newspapers in the living room and got scooped up for recycling (total fear!) so for three hours, every time I took a break from straight writing and taking loads in and out of the washing machine, I'd go take a look. Not in the living room. Not in my room. Not anywhere.
Then mom comes home, lifts the papers up on my desk, the ones I'd gone through twice that afternoon and there it is.
*sigh* How's that for ironic?
But all the pages are typed for the day, so tomorrow I can veg out on the couch with the binders, do some editing on the printed out pages and watch the flames-sharks game :o)