There’s this pesky parasite in my fingertips called the Internal Editor. He doesn’t like to let me free-write. He insists upon a certain measure of Quality — unless I’m typing in Gmail Chat — and he doesn’t care that Quality slows me down whether she’s just sprinkling herself on my work, or outright smothering it.

I’m considering chopping off my fingers just for the sake of getting rid of the Internal Editor. He’s THAT bad.

I have been terrible these past couple weeks. It’s as if after finishing my novel I gave myself a free pass to slack! Well, the pass has been revoked. It’s time to get my butt in gear. I have about 40 days to whip my first 50 pages into shape for a certain contest, plus a couple short stories that have been sitting around waiting to be finished, plus another novel that won’t write itself!

And that’s only in my writing life. There’s also the full-time job, the potential side web project (probably a bad idea), and the boyfriend, the pup, the family, and the friends. Oh dear.

If only I didn’t get so tired…