I had an idea for a post today, but somewhere between walking to work, frantically trying to fix the final plot hole in Brothers-in-Arms, and then falling asleep for an hour and a half thanks to my medication I kind of forgot it.
I actually have no clue now what to talk about. Except my book perhaps.
While editing today I came across a plot hole I had not figured out before. I need to get the book to my publishers by Friday, and coming across a plot hole was not what I needed right now. I shamelessly panicked and contacted everyone who had read the book, begging for help.
In other words, I spent all afternoon pacing my floor and mulling over the plot hole. Thanks to my friend I was able to fix it without drastically needing to change the book. It turned out to be a simple fix for all the trouble it gave me. (It was even a major plot hole, which I should have caught long before this.)
I was so nervous I managed to get another square done for my 2016 Quilt. (I'm a nervous knitted and get a lot of knitting done while I edit.)
This post is short, but frantically fixing plot holes is kind of exhausting. Or maybe it was pacing the floor. Or knitting like a mad man. Or all of the above. (My hair suffered from all of this and my bangs are now standing on end. So I might look a little crazy on top of everything else.)
I'm going to bed though.
Leaving you with another Psych quote. This is the one which no longer sounds strange to me because my adopted family says stuff like this all the time. (Some of them are in denial, but deep down they know it's true. I've had dinner with them, I've heard their conversations. They can't deny it to me.)