Just finished the second novel for the month, and no, I'm not writing a third. In fact, I don't want to write for a bit. Not sure how long a bit is, I suppose it's all relative.
I'm going for a little break soon, to celebrate my birthday and see a concert. The timing couldn't be better!
Otherwise things are good. My back was really acting up this past week, too much time of butt in chair. But I have only good feelings about this story, even though the end is sad. Sometimes that's what happens.
And yeah, I also feel like writing is a bit invasive. Not sure if there is anything to be done about that. I suppose it is what it is, and I'm glad for that too.
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