I’m hungry.

Do we have any leftover Chinese in the fridge?  I think there was a little.  I could just slip away and –

No, no.  I’m editing.  Gotta stay the course.  This book won’t edit itself.

Wouldn’t that be cool; a self-editing novel.  Like you type the last period and put it into a drawer, leave it alone for a few days and come back.  Done.  Little elves do all the work.  Like in that story with the guy who makes hats and gets behind so the elves catch him up overnight while he’s asleep.

I’ve reread the same paragraph three times now.

Dammit, I’ve got to concentrate!

Okay, for real.  Deep breath.  Stretch.  I can do this.  Get this one in the bag.

Man, my sentence structure is awful here.  Was I trying to imply that the goat’s wearing a sweater vest?  That’s certainly how it reads.  And I’m pretty sure I meant to type impregnable, not impregnate.  I don’t even know how one would go about knocking up a heavily fortified fortress. . .

Fortified fortress. Good job there, Writer, way to reach with the vocabulary.  And I wanna do this for a living?

C’mon, don’t go negative.  I’ve written a book!

Just have to edit it, is all. . .

I’ve only been at it for two hours and I’m not getting up until I’ve put in at least three more.  I’m doing this!  I’m finishing getting this novel edited today!

. . . . . .

. . .maybe it was shoes, not hats. . .