The Eighth Map Problem
Dear Reader,
You know when you decide to start a project that’s a little bit different from everything you’ve done before—trying a new recipe; building an unfamiliar piece of Ikea furniture; writing that fantasy novel you’ve been dreaming about for years, but have been too afraid of failing to write well that you’ve kept putting it off—that is until you see your fortieth birthday speeding toward you like an oncoming truck…
Then, somehow, you find yourself in the middle of said project freaking out because—the recipe wants me to soak these berries in brandy for how many weeks?!?
Or, what do you mean I need a power drill to finish this piece of furniture? I’m strictly a screwdriver and hammer person.
Or even possibly, I have fifty thousand characters. This book is entirely too long. No one will want to read it so why am I drawing another bloody map?!?
Basically you’ve overcommitted, its turning out to be a lot more work than you thought, and you can practically feel the thin ice beneath your feet cracking because its bound to be a total failure, but you’ve sunk too much time into it to turn back now.
Ask me how my week is going, I dare you.
XoXo,
Project Candlelight has acquired its eighth map, and I can see numbers nine and ten looming on the horizon. We’re almost there, I swear we are.
Favorite line from this week:
He looked like he wanted more reassurance, but I did not have it in me to give it.
Are you getting another NASA tourism shot because I have not crawled out of my writer’s cave and made myself presentable for quite some time…
Who can say?
I am an aunt again!
My brother has added a gorgeous baby nephew to my collection of beautiful nieces.