After an outpouring of five stories in five days, I'm totally drained. The first drafts are all hand-written and I am currently typing the last of them up as well as doing the first revision. This is the longest of the stories, too, so that makes the task daunting, even though I am eager to see where the characters are going to take me.
Plus, I am tired; I feel as though I'll never have another original thought ever again. In fact, I'm starting to wonder whether these are original stories, or I've nicked them from somewhere.
I enjoyed doing the first, hand-written drafts because I was sat in the living room, watching some telly, as the sun shone into the room. To type them up, on the other hand, I have to sit upstairs in my draughty, freezing cold study. The curtains are closed because the light reflects onto the screen, and it's altogether a less than delightful experience; especially now that rain has replaced sunshine.
So, I'm going to do some housework, and hope that I get back in the writing mood later.
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