Writing on the Road: Onward

The third campsite required 10 miles of driving down a dirt road to locate. And caretaker “Bob” was a flirt (despite grandfatherly age) so I spent a lot of time nodding at his endless stories and looking on longingly as my laptop battery slowly ebbed. He took the picture.

The book has undergone the re-org and now I work frantically to write new scenes and fix a kajillion consistency errors. I don’t think I’ll be done before I head back Wednesday. I mainly just try to keep going past lethargy, sick-of-the-bookness, and jolts of weird frenetic anxiety.

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