Crossed air currents make a traveler check shoes and late model conveyance belts for road worthiness, breezes told tales told over railroad stew and tapatusa, near the round fires and hyperlinks, the voice whispers, “Take heed, the child’s balloon is exactly the thought decided upon in the warming air, Washington’s steaming hot water bottles are congressional houses of light. Yet these are suggestions and held opinions warily stepping into greased warpaint of petroleum distillates in a migratory season…we will to see…and who can actually see?
I have some managerial experience. For sixteen years I managed a medical office, and I took good care of my co-workers. It’s taking me about as long to learn how to take good care of myself.
Hands down, praise works best, so I try to appreciate any small step I take toward the larger task at hand – which is drafting a 100,000-word novel. One of the unintended consequences of this practice is that as I’m not just kinder and gentler toward myself, I’m kinder and gentler toward others. If I live long enough, I may actually become a genuinely nice person.
But I must admit that I still have days when I don’t want to sit down by myself to write a book that might never see the light of day. Some days, I’ll…
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