Spring, Spring, Spring

Which of course brings us to Seven Brides For Seven Brothers. Oh the barn-yard is busy in a reg-ular tizzy and the ob-vious reason is because of the season, Ma Nature’s lyrical with her yearly miracle, Spring, Spring, Spring!

I like to start off with a digression. Manages your expectations.

So ’tis spring here in the city above the City (Montreal, NYC…hey. I don’t make the rules.) and we have already started taking advantage. One must. There aren’t quite so many entirely gorgeous days as there are back in California during this season. There are walks and dogs parks and picnics and badminton to be had! And HONEYSUCKLES!

To be clear, we grew up calling these honeysuckles. They’re apparently not. But you suck the sweet out of them and it tastes like jarred honey so, hey. What’re you gonna do. There is such a thing as a purpleflower honeysuckle and it looks nothing like this. Anyway, I haven’t had one of these whatever-they’re-really-calleds in forever and this vine seriously made me feel like I’d gotten to the bottom of my cup of tea. They’re so small and it’s usually just a taste but I had two from this one and the second one actually burned my throat. Crazy delicious.

And then there was the rest of that lovely day.

Now I must to write. Before which of course I have to take part in at least three distractions so. I really should get on that. You know the concept of word count still bugs me (during the writing of the book… I have no problem with the fact that books actually have words of which there will be a specific count) – except apparently when I’m writing YA or maybe anything closer to genre fiction, so don’t stone me when I say how excited I am that the WIP is at 41k. And that by tonight, she shall be further. By a specific amount, at least. I cannot wait to share this book with someone! GAH.

Adieu.

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2 thoughts on “Spring, Spring, Spring

  1. That outfit, those flowers, and the expression on your face all seem to say ‘spring!’

    Oh the writing. The writing. The writing. Word count. I like it when I’m writing. When I’m revising, I need something closer to timed electroshocks to keep me on task.

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    • I have NO earthly idea why I have such contempt for it, except that it seems to remind me of people who thinks the word count *makes* the book. Original word count is not difficult. Unless you’re a master procrastinator. Or just like to build anxiety. Or are otherwise lame. ::points to self::

      Also, SPRING!

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