Right.

Can. Not. Go. On. Vacation.

GYAH!

I swear to god, I'm just deranged. That's all there is to it. Bleeding out of my mind.

I finished a NOVEL last week. Wrote over ten-THOUSAND words in a single week. Promised myself a week's vacation before I even thought about writing again.

And what did I do on Tuesday? Re-read everything that Liz and I wrote year before last for Silver and Green (my last dated entry for Silver & Green is December, 2004). And what did I do yesterday? Wrote ~2,800 words for Silver & Green.

Now, on the one hand, Silver & Green does take place over multiple countries and one of the things we've decided to do is Interlude between each part of the novel with a short faerie tale from the country where that part of the novel takes place as sort of a flavor text introduction to the nation and its ideals. So what I wrote was the Khadya faerie tale.

Faerie tales have a pretty natural flow and rhythm to them, a sort of repetative structure... given that most of them were originally intended to be verbally passed down, these sort of devices aided the memory, etc. So, really, I probably only wrote about 1200 words because I copied and pasted a bunch of sections (Liz pointed out to me 2 places where I'd actually forgotten to change the stuff in those copy/pastes that needed to be changed, making it completely obvious what I'd done, but hey, that's what editors are for, right?)

That being said, I've also found that it's harder for me to sleep now, if I'm not planning out the next bit of writing I want to do... I fall asleep thinking something along these lines: He thought that he had absolved himself of guilt over the atrocities of war, but apparently... Like that.

Anyway, guess I'm going to be getting right back into the grind...

Oh, pardon me, are these your eyes? I think they rolled under my desk.