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Bleak Midwinter Bookish Things

We are now deep into what I like to term the bleak midwinter, mainly because I love the hymn and "bleak midwinter" is more poetic than "I've been freezing my arse off for months and it's conference season and Christmas is over and I hope I don't catch the flu." And so the drab chill of February is upon us.

I've been attempting to revise my manuscript from last summer (not the NaNoWriMo one from November--the one before that), and I get interrupted about every other sentence. I should just go to Starbucks with Bose headphones or something, but I always argue to myself that it's not worth killing the travel time. Instead, I nearly kill everyone in my household. I've tried locking the door, but  . . . they bang and bang and bang.

It's at these points I wonder (read: panic). If a free afternoon on a cold rainy day with nothing scheduled does not give me enough space to meaningfully revise, when oh when oh when will I ever make progress? It m…

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