Paksworld

The local climate produces a dilemma…as summer approaches, it’s cool enough to go out on the land only in the early morning.

And morning is when I write best–first-drafting, anyway.   This morning, having wakened–really wakened–with a bright idea well before dawn, I fought it for awhile and then made my way to the computer.  Started writing.   2000+ words later, it wasn’t 8 am yet.   Hands were sore and swollen.  I flapped them around and ate a bowl of cereal.

2000+ words before breakfast should’ve meant I could spend the whole day doing something else, right?   Wrong.  Book is perfectly aware that I have houseguests coming tomorrow and need to do more about ensuring that their room is ready.  That other things remain undone.  Book doesn’t care.  Got my attention, dragged me into the scene that started it all, and away we went.

I’m happy with that, while it’s happening, until my hands seize up.  It’s afterward, when I see the various messes piled around, untouched (except to be added to!)  that I think “I really should’ve stopped.”

But I haven’t stopped.  I’ve come back to it at from time to time today, between sorting and hanging out laundry, and bringing it in,  and watering the vegetable garden, and looking again (fruitlessly) for the original map and the original background material, and driving down to the city to buy ink cartridges and vellum to redraw the map and lettuce and bread and peanut butter and a pair of nice-looking pork chops for dinner (it was good.  Very good.  Pork chops, potatoes, really good lettuce from the store and radishes from the garden, nice hot crisp ones.)

And Book is still calling because there’s something more it wants me to know tonight.   I really need to fold the clothes I brought in and dropped on the bed.

I really need to write this book.

And draw the (muttermuttermutter) map.