Sometimes it's hard to get into a romantic frame of mind when its time to sit
down and write, even when a deadline looms. For instance today. Two days ago,
the sewer line from my 200 year old house to the street suddenly burst sending
raw sewage into the air and across the yard. Yeah, how romantic is that? And
then I see the outrageous bill, for digging up my entire yard to replace piping-
-none of which it seems is covered by insurance. There is no working plumbing
in the house last night or today, the dogs had to be shuttled off to a kennel
and the kids to a neighbor's house. So I have a little time alone--except for
all of the plumbers with backhoes, shovels and long lengths of pipe--and it's
time to write a love scene.
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