Am I even capable of writing something short? Doubtful.

So we’ll see how this goes. The last thing I posted should explain why I haven’t been blogging. There’s only so many hours in a day, and I dedicate every spare one I have to writing. Right now I’m reading it, editing with pen, then transcribing (from scratch, if you will) onto a new document on my computer. Judging from how much fucking work it is, and I’m definitely not even halfway done. I’m on chapter two, which is the second biggest chapter. The worst one will be six. But, they say it helps judge¬† the pace and cadence and whatnot if you retype it rather than editing the first document. Also, I’ll be real with you, I’m catching typos as I retype it that I did NOT find when I was just reading it. Stuff your eyes just scan over and replace with the right word before you realize what you looked at. Stuff like “not” instead of “no” or mixing up it/is/if or whatever because I’m typing fast and not looking at the screen, as I like to do when I type. I always instinctively hit CTRL+S all the time when I’m blogging, out of habit from writing. It brings up an annoying dialogue box. Damn writer habits. That and the booze. So inconvenient.

So all I really do is work and work on my book. I edit during my lunch break in my car, then I transcribe that in-between getting home and working out and then starting dinner. Then after dinner it’s PTFO time real fast because I have to do that same shit again. Unmentioned are the many minor house things i must complete between work/sleep as well, like dishes and tidying and packing two lunches. I know is all really boring adult normal everyone does it bullshit, but I’m just saying that I am now operating like a finely tuned machine. But this Saturday, I vowed to do something outside related, because oh so soon, certainly within two months, it’ll be fucking cold out again. And where I live, it’ll stay that way until…IDK like May of 2019. It’s about 5-6 months of winter here, really, if you think about it. But anyway, there also aren’t terrifying bugs or animals about, either. Also, no life-threatening weather, like ever. Anyway.

So, like I always say, it’s fortunate that I have nothing better to do than sit in my mildly shitty rental house and write a book. I mean it’s all very “impoverished artist” so it’ll make sense if it’s successful, which of course you want it to be, but I don’t think that should be the main goal you have. Like if it’s mainly for the money, it probably won’t sound right. Or something.

Well, I wanted to see if I could handle something short. Did I even make a point? Do I ever? This is mostly for my benefit, though each new follower still fills me with joy. Maybe one day all of this will be a written history of my writing process. I just did the ctrl+s thing again, fucking weed. Anyway. I’ve been distracted all morning and haven’t done much writing today and it’s already freaking 1pm. So I should go.

~Cassie