I have 15 days to go.
Fifteen days until my deadline for my next book, Henryβs Sisters.
This means that β except for a short jaunt to drop a kid off at school on the
east coast β I will spend most of my other days muttering to myself, half-
crazed, almost sleepless, and teetering on desperate. I will talk to my
characters out loud. They will talk back. They will throw things in my mind and
screech and use poor language and make me laugh. I will laugh out loud at
inappropriate times at my characters. I will try to avoid this inappropriate
laughter during church.
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