In which tomorrow is Monday. Again.

Could somebody tell me why the life of a writer is believed to be one of unending glamour and excitement?

This weekend, I wrote, slept, wrote, ate, wrote, did the laundry, scrubbled cat belly, wrote, answered a few embarrassingly overdue emails, wrote, signed some books for an SRM bookstore order, wrote, updated the Saltation webpage (only 554 books left for adoption!) and, um, wrote.

You'd think that I'd have something to show for all this industry, but you'd be wrong. The days when I could press out 4,000 words in a day are apparently gone forever. Guess I'll just have to write shorter books.

Here in beautiful Central Maine, we're looking at showers on the overnight, and the possibility of thunderstorms on the morrow (yay, thunderstorms!)

And how was your weekend?

Progress on Longeye:

61,296 / 100,000 (61.3%)