Imbolc Garden Planning Moon
Still plugging away at 1,500 words a day. The novel is sort of baggy right now. Lots of words, probably, as the Emperor famously said to Mozart, too many words. I’m not quite at the Mozart level where I can comfortably say every word is necessary. I’m not even in the Salieri league. Hell, I’m at best playing Legion ball, hoping for a look from the scouts.
Which is not to say, however, that it will not improve. This novel will receive much more attention after I finish the rough draft. Much more. It will reach a point where it contains as many words as I mean it to have, no more, no less.
This time I’m eager to get to the rewriting. Writing is in the rewriting. Though this blog rarely gets rewritten.
So, the superbowl. Well, I don’t have a dog in this fight. Haven’t had a football dog since the late, great now permanently retired Brett Favre returned for one season too many. I like having Sunday afternoons free in the winter.
As to the weather. Hell.