Okay, I take that back about the writing and the hating. Printed out a fresh copy of my chapter and settled in on the sofa--rather than on my bed, where I've been doing most of my hand-edits--and had a GREAT three hours of revising.
Was it the fact that my first five pages were already better than most of the rest of the chapter? Maybe. But I like to think that it was the sofa. Ooh, the sofa. I never work on it any more, and indeed hardly even sit on it, but today it seems to have recharged my mojo. Maybe it's the lovely dragonfly-green shawl/wrap that HK gave me for my birthday, and that is now draped over the back of that 8-year-old, $300, Pier One, faded and rather lopsided sofa that reinvigorated it?
Whatever. Five good pages is better than no good pages.
(BELOW: This--minus the shawl--is where the magic happens)
