Muddling through a draft of a new novel feels a bit like slugging through some prairie slush.
The Mud of Transition
Lessons for writing from nature: calendars are nice …. BUT like chapter outlines, merely a guideline. Spring is fickle … BUT no matter what, the days are brighter, the snow is disappearing, the puddles growing. The plot is definitely heading towards warmth, towards the light. BUT like a good book, it’s all about the journey. This muddy middle will pass. Splish, splash towards new growth ... towards spring.

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Brennessel
One of those curious German words that I’d hear growing up alongside Wanzen , (the dreaded bedbugs of Mom’s gulag days), and Quasselwasser ...
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