6 AM. Coffee.
7 AM. Writing. One paragraph.
8 AM. Coffee. Stare at paragraph.
9 AM. Research fonts.
10 AM. Coffee. Different mug might help.
11 AM. Perfect mug found.
12 PM. Lunch. Deserved.
1 PM. Nap. Creative recovery.
5 PM. One sentence added.
6 PM. Deleted paragraph.
Productive day.
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Coffee shop writing. Laptop on table. Bathroom break. Laptop gone. Filed report. Mourned manuscript. Three days later. Laptop returned. Post-it note attached. 'Chapter 4 drags. Cut the dream sequence. Protagonist is unlikeable. Also, your password is too obvious.'
Workshop advice: kill your darlings. Killed my darling. Favorite paragraph. Gone. Darling came back. Chapter 7. Brought friends. Now they're plotting against the protagonist. I didn't write this scene.
Editor's note on chapter 7: 'This section drags.' Chapter 7 is the grandmother's funeral. 'Could the mourning be faster?' Rewrote. Grandmother buried in two paragraphs. New note: 'Now add more emotion.' She's already underground, Margaret.
Published first novel. Held the physical copy. Smelled the pages. Dreams realized. Found typo. Page 1. The title. Spelled my own name wrong. Now legally that person.
Beta reader feedback: 'This character on page 89 seems unnecessary.' Checked page 89. Character responded in margins: 'I seem very necessary.' Asked beta reader for clarification. No response. Checked manuscript again. Page 90. New sentence I didn't write: 'The critic will not be missed.'
Index cards for plotting. 47 cards. Color-coded. Three acts. Perfect structure. Window open. Wind blew. Order lost. Spent two hours rearranging. Beta reader: 'Best plot you've ever written.' I don't remember the original order. Neither does the wind.