Well, I weaned myself off the cold meds and returned to my writing world, only to find it had tilted in my absence. One sector went some kind of insane, almost certainly dooming the future of our writing group. I panicked, forgetting for a moment that when one door closes, another will open.
A big shake-up might be in order. Maybe it was time to take a break from this critique group anyway. I feel myself being forced out of my inertia and sped toward the finish of this novel. Then, I can begin new work for a new group.
So, I’ll just pour myself a glass of Newman’s Own limeade, open Word, and get back to work. Let the mutineers take the ship. I have wings, I can fly to shore.