My plan was to work on the novel again over Memorial Day weekend … and did I? No. And why? Because after several years of working on this blatant therapy, it occurred to me that what I have as the middle needs to be pushed up to the first quarter. That would be better, I said, even though it was 2 in the morning, which is not the best time to make decisions.
I suppose I could do that. I mean, I am not doing that. But I could. But I won’t. What I need to do is finish this draft.
You know, when I program there’s always the ugly kludgy answer and the elegant answer, and the elegant answer never occurs to me until I put the finishing touches on the kludgy answer. Perhaps that’s a problem I can avoid here.
But will I? No I won’t.