New Year, Same Old Me
You know that feeling you get when you’re **thiisss** close to winning at chess, or to untangling a very large, very uncooperative knot? Sort of itchy and excited and tense all at once – you can see the nine or ten moves it will take to get there, but in order to complete them you’ve got to concentrate and shush those around you and frown really hard, or else you’ll lose the sequence and that way lies much weeping and gnashing of teeth?
This is pretty much where I’m at with Surrender of a Siren. **Thiiisss** close to finishing the draft and terrified to break my concentration. What little of it I can gather, at any rate.
To that end, I’m going to be a bad blogger and commenter over the next few weeks. Uh, just like I have been for the past few weeks. Sorry!
Goals for the new year?
*Maintain tenuous hold on sanity.
*Walk more to prevent brain atrophy (I read this in an in-flight magazine). And my brain is atrophying at an alarming rate. I shake my head and things rattle in there.
*Go to England.
That’s all I can muster the concentration for right now.