I woke up at 1:30 this morning and could not get back to sleep. So I read some more from Hannibal.
Then I opened my current.txt file and wrote about two thousand words describing one of the characters in my novel: Micah Malachai (haven't decided on his last name yet) and then, after feeding Eva and taking her out for a short stroll around the pool, I drank a cup of green tea while reading what I had earlier written. It seemed to be an adequate description.
After a late breakfast of an orange, a banana, and a bowl of Raisin Bran Crunch I watched Fox and Friends (Saturday Edition) for a short time, wondering if the sexy smiling blond female news-person could possibly wear a shorter yellow dress and shaking my head in disbelief at the laughingly reported antics and monkeyshines being perpetrated on the good conservative citizenry by the everlastingly corrupt political congregation of know-nothing liberals currently in power.
Much later, after digging up a dead shrub and pulling some weeds around the pool, I came back inside and had a chicken sandwich, some chips, and a glass of Pepsi. Then I played some tug-o-war with Eva and eventually returned to the computer and again read what I had written earlier.
It was bland, uninspired, and downright disgusting, and I deleted the entire file.
So it goes . . .
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Perhaps the chicken sandwich was a bit off-putting. Or maybe you should have slipped the sexy smiling blond female news-person into your current.txt file and thus spiced it up enough to obviate the need for deletion. But then mere art leaves no room for second guessing.
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