I'm working on my next book, so I'm not posting anywhere much. But I thought I'd leave a photo of my desk here, so you could see that I'm working. There it is -- my desk -- covered with current notebooks. I write on a computer, but I always have notebooks going to keep track of ideas (plot, characters, or changes).
The thing that's making me chuckle is that for this book, I seem to have re-discovered the pleasures of wooden pencils. The amount of force it takes to write on paper with a pencil seems right somehow, and the sound of the wood shaving away from the lead in the sharpener is so satisfying. I love these things! Why did I ever give up on pencils?
Oh yes, I remember: It happened in third grade (I think it was third grade). Anyway, our teacher told us that when we could write our name in cursive we could use a pen. I couldn't wait -- using a pen seemed so grown-up. I gave pencils up and did not look back...
...until this book. Ha! It does seem rather silly that all that it takes to keep me working is a box of pencils and a good sharpener, but why question it? Here's to the pencil and to all the small pleasures that keep you on task!
Hope you're all well. Happy writing and reading!
P.S. I loved Kate Atkinson's A GOD IN RUINS. Did I mention this before? Great read!