When I finish a novel, you are supposed to make with the short stories.
Whole short stories, not random bits of ideas that should be cool, if one had a story to go with them.
Seriously, I have a whole stack of little files full of ideas here just raring to go, if only you would give me some sugar.
That is all.
Time to break out the winter playlist.
So today is turning out to be a day devoted to cleaning up my apartment, which desperately needs it. How do one girl and one cat generate so much filth?
It's raw outside and chilly in here, so it's also a day for listening to winter music, and maybe later for reading a book. Gosh, where DO these PILES of STUFF come from?