I’m not usually an outliner, but I might have fixed a plot issue that’s been stalling me out for a few years by doing prep for for next week, and while its not going to make me change my ways, I feel a bit like that angry pingu pasting hearts on cardstock. Happy it worked: annoyed at the process.

I've used fountain pens for a while, but this is the first time I've cracked the barrel of one. I considered trying to fix it, but given it seemed like a flaw along the seem, I just broke it down for parts and moved on with my life. Prepping for writing retreat, getting vibes right.

Two days until my writing retreat (sometimes you have to be the little pieces of happiness you carve into your own world, and this one is mine.) I look forward to writing time, cabin views, and quiet.

I did write this weekend, but I also saw cats, and I know people like cats more. These are friends’s cats, and cat friends, and also very cute.

wri-tober day 4 - squeeze tasty nuance. total words, 404. Brain was a bit mush, so I am taking what I get!

Wri-tober day 3, words - "opposite grandfather tragedy." Total count 440.

Fun excerpt: "I’m a ghost expert. An adept with spirits and spooks of all kinds. I have more than a passing familiarity with the fey. But there are volumes of terrible things that are going to pull the wool over my eyes."

Random-ink-tober day 2, words were “heal, boat, string.” Total words, 523.

Fun excerpt: ‘Both of those markets are flush with cash, unlike the starving orphans and three legged cats you want to save…I understand you’re squeamish, but when the rubber hits the road, we have to go towards funding’

Trying to do a Ink-tober type writing exercise to warm up this month, but I can’t find a good list, so I’m going with an old faithful: three random words. Today was “bird, proper, order.” Final word count: 520

There is nothing quite like wasps in your walls to recontextualize the spaces where you want to spend your time.

This is not a metaphor. The wasps are very real.

The sun is great, but it is making veritable swarm of boxelder bugs emerge. I just want to write in peace. I know they are at the end of their live cycle, but also then one walked across my chest and I didn't throw my laptop across the room or scream or anything so I deserve a medal.

At a writing retreat (which is more a 'vacation where writing is the only thing happening' than 'structured program') and enjoying the first day of sun!