That Time of the Month

Last Night...
It’s the end of the month. February Eve. The old diary has seen a lot less action since the inception of this blog. There’s nothing blanker than unwritten entries on untouched pages in a diary. 50 words a day is plenty, yet for weeks it goes unconsidered and unopened.

I haven’t lost a diary yet. That’s some accomplishment, considering I’d forget to breathe if my body didn’t do it for me. I have however scribbled diary entries on long-since strewn scraps of paper. What, you don’t care? Nor I. Writing for writing’s sake.

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Currently...
Rewriting 4 stories of 50% Rude. Trying to write about a woman in Nigeria who gets beaten up for changing into a cat. There is also something very short (couple of hundred words) about The Worst Secret Agent In The World. Not to mention Cross My Heart And Hope To Die, which will be all-out emotion, also very short. Ron Todd seems to have taken off as well, the character who will set me free. About 1000 words so far, in less than 2 flowing hours, which is a good start for a new book-length topic. That guy is self-sustaining. I wanna share the secret how. Maybe when it's published.

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ohreally Now is that time of the month

not so sure Now I'm ready to start