In Which the Second Verse Approximates the First

27 April 2005

You wouldn't think that writing books could be the path of least resistance, but some days I swear it is.

Sigh.

I know this not-novel-writing thing appears to be consuming me. That's because novel-writing generally consumes me, so the absence is a presence.

Anyway, yesterday my mom and I were at Ingebretsen's and I said, "You know what I hate?" And she started laughing and said, "You'd think by now I would, since you never hesitate to tell me. But go on: what do you hate?"

Whatever it was, it wasn't particularly important.

Back to Novel Gazing.

And the main page.

Or the last entry.

Or the next one.

Or even send me email.