So funny enough, I haven't found the perfect job for me just yet. Well, actually I did, but they offered it to someone else. Fair enough. I can hold out for something better. Or I can get a couple part-time jobs that will be easier to leave when I take off to rainy Ireland in spring. Whichever. I'm just going nuts sitting at home right now with nothing to do but clean the bathroom or do the laundry. I did that already. So I started concentrating more on my novel. I think my opening chapter is getting much better, but I'm not sure what to do with the rest of the story yet. Sigh. how can I become a famous novelist, if I can't figure out what happens in my first novel. this is a serious dilemma. And I refuse to take Carol Lynch williams' advice and just kill off one of the characters when you don't know what to do. I think that's cheating. She doesn't get fabulous reviews anyway. I can do better than that. I think.
But its on my mind so much right now that I wake up in the middle of the night with half formed ideas that seem brilliant at the time. I think "Eurica, I've got it!" Then I remember them later when I'm fully awake and I think "What in the world does that have to do with anything?" No good. So I keep rewriting and revising whatI've already got, hoping for inspiration. and sometimes it comes, bits at a time. I'm not really worried. I was made to do this. I just hope somebody was made to read it.
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