Room by room, manifest destiny

Apparently having my own office wasn’t enough. I wrote the first three drafts of Drowning Practice in my office. My very own, quite spacious room full of books and yarn and lovely late afternoon light… Surely no one needs more space than that. Apparently I do. For the latest round of revisions–the fourth draft being done at the request of an enthusiastic agent who we hopehopehope will soon become My Agent but who will, for now, be referred to as Dream Agent–I have annexed the dining room.

All meals will be eaten at the tiny table in the kitchen until further notice. Yes, this house once had a dining room. Now it has been conquered and renamed. It is Cari’s Studio Annex. In this brave new land, the coffee runs freely alongside the angst and doubt, alternating with glimmers of tremendous ego. (It can’t be helped, really. If you don’t have the occasional moment where you truly believe you’re an extraordinary genius, then it’s just not possible to write fiction. Don’t worry. Those moments never last long and I try to keep my mouth shut until they pass.)

There is also room in Cari’s Studio Annex for yarn. (There’s always room for yarn.) Yesterday I received some fantastic birthday Koigu from the beloved La Brainy. There’s no knitting happening in the Annex, but there is certainly yarn fondling.

And now, back to the revisions. I may be a bit quiet while I work on this draft. I’m hoping it’s the final draft that Dream Agent will deem ready to go out to publishers. (At which point a whole new world of hurt and angst will open up. Bring it on.)