I'm still revising, and just faced the fact that I have 25 straight pages in which everyone just sits around and talks about stuff. Sure, they eat chicken, they groom their wings, they wash the dishes in champagne, but other than that it's just jabber, jabber, jabber.
This discovery has brought on a massive attack of procrastination, during which I: 1. Ate peanuts; 2. Went outside and stared at everything that needs doing in the garden, which encouraged me to procrastinate on that, too; 3. Patted the cat; 4. Watered the plants; 5. Got started organizing some signings and stuff for the fall, which almost doesn't qualify as procrastination except that you and I both know that it is simply a more advanced form. Ditto writing this blog post.
We've been having a rainy week, but right now the sun is shining, the laundry is drying (after two days of hanging around damp), the birds are chirping, and the snail's on the thorn. Really, it would be much, much healthier to be outdoors, wouldn't it? Don't you think so? Right?
I know. I'm going back to work now.