As the infection leaves my body I float into this cloud of goo. Every orifice on my face is trying to expunge the evil scummy liquid that has impaired my health. My nose is now stuffed as the scum is too viscous to leave without constant blowing. My ears feel continuously wet as I fade in and out of pressurized deafness. My eyes feel sandy, my brain muddy, my face scratchy, and my mouth is a cotton mass of breath, scum and chappy lips.
I feel dumpy because I have not gone to exercise yet. I’ve eaten way too much. Most of all I want to crawl in bed with a good book, just to sleep the days away.
If you like at my sidebar, you’ll notice I know have a list of books I’m currently reading. Feel free to tell me I’m crazy.
So the plan, the plan tonight is to write. (After laundry, dishes and dinner). I just finished The Writer’s Little Helper. Overall, it was okay. The line by line mathematical analysis of one’s work and minimalist writing bugged me a bit. He compared a lot of his techniques with movies…in one or two cases the books he applied his style to I disagreed that they were good example of anything but bad examples. He did give some tidbits of good advice. Like writing one viewpoint at a time, then going back to the beginning and writing the next viewpoint. That makes sense. I’m going through Without Honor like this now. It should help keep the voices distinct. Besides with the outline (which James V. Smith does not like to do) I know where I’m going.
Good for me.