On not sleeping

Oct 05

Evidently I am Jo March, as all my best writing comes to me inthe dead of night. If you fail to get this reference, please drop what you are doing immediately and go read/watch/both Little Women. I have spoken.

I say this because it is 1:58 AM on Thursday night Friday morning and this little blog entry is providing the first break I’ve taken from the book in the past 4 hours. Well, okay, the second. I mean, it kind of comes in conjunction with the first, which was a very different, though far more crucial, kind of break. (Teehee, potty humor.)

Normally, I would think that this was just the side effect of being on a truly great writing roll. I fear it may be more than that, however, as the same thing happened last night. Maybe I”m just spending so much time writing that I’ve forgotten how to sleep (my other great love!),

I guess I can look at it this way: all true artists are insomniacs, right? All I need now is an opium addiction and a villa in the south of France and I’ll be able to say I’ve really made it.

And hey, at least I’ll have these 65,000 words (okay, okay, fine. 64,882) to keep me warm when I’m fired tomorrow for falling asleep at work.

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