Fuzzy Duck Fridays

I’ve spent the last few Friday nights writing until after midnight – tying to cram in one night all the pent up writing from the week.  There are times when I think I’m going to burst in the car driving home from work (“I hope I can remember that idea/feeling/concept sentence”) so I can smash into the few hours left in the week.  I feel like a pile of fuzzy ducks flopping around together.

This makes for tangled, incoherent, nervous writing.  But at least it makes for re-writing.

I always find it interesting that when you have an image in  your mind that belongs somewhere in you writing, somehow that image seems to pop up everywhere. (An hourglass?  A skull with painted teeth?  A bad looking carnival?) They all seem to find their way to me in the hours before I write, beeping at me as I try to remember – where did I see that?

Now for the rest of my re-writing weekend!

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