I am a creature of habit.
Warming a can of cat food under hot water for an elderly cat with a tetchy tummy does nothing for the smell.
Cinnamon oat flax seed clusters are no substitute for nut and toffee-laced chocolate as writer’s brain food. First, but by no means foremost, because the flax seeds will wedge in gaps your teeth didn’t know they had. Secondly because, as inspiration goes, it’s just sadly lacking, as in “Give me liberty, or give me a bad hair day” -grade lacking.
Teenagers will clean you out of pomegranate and blood-orange laced San Pelligrino but will leave the pompelmo–that would be grapefruit flavoured–untouched.
I am really a creature of habit. I prefer to drive the same routes and know in advance what to expect of my day so that I may do the “daily business” without much thought and think about writing instead.
Some of January’s goals,–writing a story a week, blogging more or less routinely–are coming along fine. In fact, I’m ahead by one story. And quite a bit of work is being sent out. This time though, I’m polishing the query–differently. A little less flogging myself to do it, a lot more re-reading and considering the writing itself as I would with fiction–it’s a subtle difference, I’m not sure if I can express it exactly.
So. I did not send a query last month. However, when I do send the newest incarnation, with the re-worked beginning and end to the story, which I am convinced is the strongest work I have yet done–I will send out two of them. So there.
This week my schedule is upended and no two days are the same.
Ergo, this post is a little behind schedule.
I really am a creature of habit.