Last week, I experienced the hardest week of work in my life. The day job, now, not the airy-fairy little writing hobby. My life consisted of eat, sleep and work. And has cemented my feelings that there is no way I am doing said day job for the rest of my life.
Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t a lot of writing done during that time. And what tidbits managed to escape were for fun not profit, an exercise in blowing off steam that could never be commercial.
This week, however, I have a deadline. It’s now my turn in Bitter Script Reader’s Collaborative Writing Project. I just read through the draft so far and I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to do with it.
There are asthmatic nerds and sexy lesbians (and damnit, I went and bought a new pair of glasses yesterday and I finally look like the geek I am). Also, it’s American. Very American. So American that my tiny British brain cannot comprehend that people actually talk like that.
This may take some time. And whiskey.