I am now flat fucking broke and, having been spied by my mother's moral compass, was forced by means of guilt and shame to throw out a perfectly good bottle of gin. Will the atrocities ever end?
Work is underway, at least, and I am grateful for it. Keighdee purchased some reading material to get me back to work and it is helping tremendously. Getting The Words Right and How Not To Write A Novel are slowly teaching me to have more dexterity in my fingers and to draw my ideas more fluidly. I'm hoping that they are the final push I need to make this a reality. Heres to possibility.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment