Thought-Drive

Work proceeds. I try to ask my co workers when I see them on Mondays how their various weekends went. And whenever I do, they cordially pass the question back to me. "I wrote," I typically say, and am happy to. This weekend's chapter came out of me on Saturday, so the part of the weekend I spent free of planning to write was more voluminous than usual. I even saw a friend on Sunday. The term rip-roaring comes to mind in description of the excitement. A few months ago, an organic conversation bubbled up between a co-worker and I about things we liked to read. He had purchased my book, and had attempted to read it, which led him to lending me several books of his own in somewhat of an attempt to apologize for not liking what I wrote. It took some weeks, but I returned one of them, and apologized for losing the other, but the conversations didn't stop. When we got around to westerns, I was excited to tell him about one western I had read that I did enjoy, so we could f

Yesterday a friend asked me about sports. Specifically my opinion about whether or not a certain player, that I had never heard of, should have made the all-star team. After his dismay, he further investigated to what extent I just haven't been paying attention, for years apparently. Later last evening, a different friend called me to tell me one of his projects was starting to get some air under its wings. He blessed me with the opportunity to get my name out there through an outlet of his creation, and asked me how my own projects were going. I told him the next book was due out in April. He asked me if I was working on the next one. I told him that I was working on a different series currently, but that the next five books of the series in question were already drafted. Again, there was silence on the line, though dismay is maybe an improper description. So I guess I've given up things for all this focus. I haven't quite started stashing notes in my desk at work, piece

Well, it finally happened. I'm blogging about blogging. Still, despite this being another ill omen, I remain optimistic that the Mayans were wrong. Day by day, I find more things to add to my bucket list. But back to my doom saying. Last weekend the picture taking progressed well.The photos were amateur of course, but I did do the driving and the walking and the shooting myself, so that's something. Further, among all the other things I was busy doing, I even jotted down some notes about what I would write. A tie in to my books developed that I was very pleased to stumble across. The first round of edits went well, also. I had a window of ten days, and set out on a pace to complete the first round in seven, which allowed me to turn back around, as planned, and refine the beginning. I got it back to the editor in nine days, confident that I could put that book to the side for at least a few weeks while I worked on the current drafting project. To that end I wrote, and was