progress

1200 words buys me 57 hours of respite. Plus, my publisher would like to set up a new blog for me to begin building buzz (bwah ha ha). I can't decide whether I'll link to it from here. In a way, it would be stupid not to, but it's funny how much the thought of giving up anonymity feels like taking off my clothes in the middle of a shopping mall (which is something you definitely...doo...nooot...want).

But for now, I'm going to pop chapter 7 in my backpack to take home and add to the pile (there's nothing as comforting as hefting the weight of hard copy on those insomniac peregrinations through the house when I fear I absolutely cannot do this -- I may soon start piling manuscript pages under my pillow), hike home, go for a run down the trail and then pop open a beer.