More empty-headed than usual

I should have published a new post yesterday. I searched in vain for a finished—or even half-finished—post in my Word folder. Then I sat at the keyboard, two different times, hoping something would come to me. Nothing. I couldn’t quite pull myself out of editing mode to write.

It’s always frightening when the words don’t come. My imagination works overtime, wondering if I’ve used up my allotment of creative thoughts. Or cohesive thoughts, for that matter. Dementia strikes early sometimes. Will I look at a copy of my book someday and say, “I wonder why this book has my name on it?” Will I even recognize my name?

Can you tell the weather here has been gloomy and cold for ages? Enough!

Let’s move on to a brighter note. A couple of days ago, I heard from someone who volunteered to read a copy of my novel and give me reader feedback. (She is a reader, not a writer.)  She said:

I had a hard time putting it down. I think it’s perfect the way it is.

Of course, she then pointed out some typos she’d found. 🙂 I was thrilled with both her comments and the typo list. I detest those sneaky little things. They’re as embarrassing to me as spinach in my teeth. I appreciate the opportunity to fix them before I send my book into the world. Still, I’m sure to get emails pointing out a few I missed. Hopefully, only a few.

On another note, in my next post I’ll do something I’ve never done before on this blog—run a contest!  Don’t miss it.

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