Incarnators Week 7

Nothing like another lost week of writing. I did get some writing done but the world conspired against me getting on a role. School started this week and I felt a little bit of an obligation to actually be ready. I mean I love writing but it isn’t paying the bills. Wait that’s not true it pays the coffee bills.

Add into that our brilliant decision to get new carpet installed during the first week of school. Have you ever installed new carpet? You might as well be moving. I was so naive at how long it was going to take to get the house ready. We had to pack five rooms into a kitchen and garage. Also, I have a lot of fucking books. Holy Hardbacks Batman. I now understand why I have embraced digital books so whole- heartedly. I moved all my digital books in one minute flat. I put my IPad away.

It became a giant puzzle trying to fit everything in but we did it (with a big assist from friends who came over Thursday and Friday). I also got to spend time as a cat whisperer. My brother called me on Friday saying Troubadour had climbed to the darkened regions of the closet and wouldn’t come down. He is already a nervous cat and the installers sent him over the edge. I rushed home on break and got him down without any injury (my brother did not get so lucky).

The good news is the carpet is in (it is extraordinary. We waited way too long to replace the old one, you could actually see slab). We spent today putting everything back and tomorrow I am back to my regular writing schedule.

Incarnators crawls along but it is crawling. Hopefully this week I can hit the gas petal and make some good progress. It will be nice to start piecing together all of this early writing into something that actually looks like chapters and progress.

About csdaley

C.S. Daley was born in California but has spent most of his life in his imagination. His first short story written in third grade, the now classic "Close Encounters of the Turd Kind," was sold to his next door neighbor for a quarter. The neighbor promptly demanded a refund. An unhealthy obsession with the writings of Neil Gaiman, Christopher Moore, and Terry Pratchett have left his mind warped and broken. He spends most of his evening swilling down coffee while tapping at a keyboard under the watchful eyes of his kittens. They are there to make sure he doesn't snap. He likes to write fantasy for adults and teens.

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