I suppose the whole thing wouldn't have been so surprising if I paid more attention to things going on in the writing business; maybe if I spent more time on Twitter or something.
But I am so easily distracted, which is why I have to live so far away from everything, out in the mountains with my horses, reckless dogs, and occasional cats.
I can't keep the internet running and write at the same time.
I can't even listen to music and write at the same time.
So I never know anything about what's going on in "the business" (I despise all things business-y, anyway), and, unlike just about every writer I know, I don't hang out with other writers. As a matter of fact, I don't hang out with anyone. I can't just pop open my laptop at a Starbucks and sip coffee and write and visit at the same time.
In fact, if anyone is even near me at all, I can't write.
So, yeah... I am really bummed out. And, yes, I did drag that entire file into my trash and hit delete. All 17,000 words of it.
There's something really liberating in destroying something you've worked so long creating. It's kind of a rush.
Now, all these novel folders on my hard drive are eying me suspiciously... like they're saying please, please, please don't kill me.
I also had no idea that March was NaNoEdMo -- National Novel Editing Month. And now it's over. I would have had a lot to say about editing and editors, too. If only I'd pay more attention.
To stuff.
And so here we are at the threshold of National Poetry Month. I actually wrote a poem for this post -- about insect time, as a matter of fact. But I deleted that, too.
What a rush.
