Why panic at 10 o'clock in the morning?

It's an appropriate chapter title from John Irving's A Widow For One Year which I'm 325 pages into (of 536). It's a wonderful novel, and even though its size is quite daunting it's well worth the read.

I find it hard to think of things to blog about after I made a personal promise that I wouldn't blog about anything personal. That's why I've got my handwritten journal, all of my dirty laundry gets aired out there, not in any sort of public forum.

I have been consistently reading and writing, which is a sort of amazing thing, usually I'll do it in little spurts, but stories come easy, and work affords plenty of time for reading and writing.

I've got time this week to get some stories typed up and revised. I have 40+ pages of stories that need to be worked on. I'm also taking notes for that novel for National Novel Writing Month in November. I've got the plot outline, I've got the main characters, and some snippets of conversation down, and I'm pleasantly surprised with what I'm coming up with. I'm already starting to fall in love with the characters a little bit which is a good sign. I can't write a story about characters I don't sort of fall in love with. If I can't fall in love with my own stories how is anyone else supposed to?

Okay, we're approaching 4 in the morning, I need to stop doing this to myself. Of course I've been saying that for years now, I'm just a little bit repetitive.

I'll end with this piece of advice from A Widow For One Year: