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scribbling at night

i’m not really making much headway this way. forcing a few minutes every day is fine and all for at least doing something, but without devoting larger chunks of time to this, i’m going to be scribbling my way to insanity quite quickly. if my wife doesn’t kill me first.

of course, tonight’s writing was another handful of riches. i didn’t realize that Gupti is a musician, nor was i fully aware how deep-seated some of Manadan’s hidden issues are, and yet, these things seem perfectly self-evident now that i see them on the page.

is there anything so satisfying as writing in pencil?

is there anything so seemingly hypocritical as describing the satisfaction of writing in pencil, on a blog?

time for bed, apparently.

but not before i thank one friend for sending an entirely unexpected note of encouragement last night (thanks again, jeff), and another for reminding me that it’s okay to not be obsessive (thanks, julie).

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