I am dripping in Kleenex, feverish and vaguely hallucinatory from lack of sleep. I hate being sick and if anyone has a quick natural cure for a respiratory infection, please, please, please let me know. I'maready taking oil of oregeno, which makes me smell like felafel.
Starting a new novel is such a strange process. I always feel as though I am trailing parts of the last novel I've written with me into the new, like the train of a skirt. I always worry because I certainly don't want to be writing the same novel twice, but maybe this is just part of my process because the books never do turn out the same. At least, I hope they don't.
Right now I'm in the bliss stage, writing out scenes that explore the characters, which maqy or may not be used. I'm not so sure about anything yet...except that I need more hot tea and more tissues.