I'm still here, not yet gobbled up by those shifty shadowy things sitting just out of reach of the circus lights, though let me tell you, I've seen a few of the carnival folk muttering about me as I wait for my muse to finish whatever it is he does when he's not directing my hand... (I've never quite had the confidence to ask him either. The way I figure it, so long as he provides me with the stories and keeps me out of the actual planning, then we can carry on living happily together)
The novel is racing towards its climax - 65 pages left to edit. I'm so deep within that stage where it takes up all of my thinking; it's the only thing I want to do, even when I'm at work staring down a microscope, all I'm thinking about is catching up with my muse as soon as I get home.
Me wifey thinks my muse is code for mistress, but I keep telling her it's not... I'm not that mad...
1 day ago