
I'm in the muck and murk of my novel, otherwise known as "the middle".
The middle is a difficult place. It's hard to sustain tension. It's easy to get lost.
And I got lost – which manifests itself, for me, in writer's block, like a big hand rising out of my subconscious to smack me on the forehead and stop me in my tracks. After some frustration and a hell of a lot of procrastination, I let my boyfriend drag me to a yoga retreat in Big Sur ("Will there be chanting?" I a...
Published on August 24, 2010 14:00