Reflections of a Writer

Fiction is fictional.  Eloquence abounds--characters never stutter, repeat themselves, or are at a loss for the right word unless it suits the plot. No unnecessary characters clog up the works. And everything in the story ultimately makes sense.
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Late at night, when Husband and Dog have gone to bed, is when Fio prowls around Amazon, peeping at first chapters of other authors' books, trying to figure out how many they've sold, and deciding she is an absolute failure.
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Fio plowed through her first eight chapters yesterday, nipping and tucking and adjusting and un-adjusting, trying to make sure the story worked.  Today she'll go through eight more chapters, but more slowly because the writing gets rougher as she goes on.  Then there are the ten thousand words she has yet to write before March 1.

Starry Night

Fiorella is making progress on the new book.  She's gone back to the beginning and should be through page 150 by the end of the week--if she hasn't jinxed herself by saying so.  That leaves next week for pages 151-200, then the last two weeks of the month for the final hundred pages. February will be devoted to final revisions because Fiorella plans to submit the final cut on March 1.

If the computer doesn't break down, if Fiorella doesn't break down, if the stars are right.