I have a list of several agent and writing blogs over in my blog sidebar that I follow, which is just a tip of the iceberg. I follow various blogs via email as well. However, lately I find my heart hasn't been in it. By that I mean, I find it both defeatist and depressing to read all the publishing industry blogs about agents and what to do, etc. Not only does it take my time away from writing, I'm so far from the querying stage on my novel that it only leads to thoughts of failure and second guessing myself. I read writing advice, and then apply it to my fledgling manuscript which shouldn't be judged and critiqued yet, just allowed to vomit itself out of my brain in all it's hideous stinky glory. So I'm trying to ignore the business side of writing until I have something to send out.Going down the short flight of steps that led to the VIP lounge was like traveling down Alice’s rabbit hole. As soon as my feet touched the first step, the world upended itself. My stomach plummeted with that same shivery twinge you get as a kid on the swing set when you’re going too fast and my vision narrowed to a tunnel. A half second later the world snapped back into place. I grabbed the hand rail and took a couple deep breaths, steadying myself.Gone was the short flight of steps with the roped off entry. I couldn’t see the bouncer any more. Instead, I found myself standing on a long flight of rough stone stairs with inky blackness at my back. Every twenty feet or so torches burned, giving off acrid smoke. Dank smelling water glistened on the walls and the ceiling arched above me like an ancient Roman tomb. With a shiver, I started down.
I was going to go forth this evening and try to hurl up a few hundred more words, but another winter storm is due to hit tonight and I really don't want to be out driving in it. So at home I'll stay. Can I just say for the millionth time that I am definitely OVER winter?