Tomorrow, we get back to work, tightening the corset strings! I went pretty easy on myself this last week. I have GOT to limit the distractions. I keep petting the kitten that is the internet. I keep saying "I'm just gonna check Twitter for a sec" or "I'm just gonna do an 'amediting' tweet" and then, an hour later, I'm still there!
No distractions. Not even the radio. Nothing to get in the way of the voice. You know, the one you read with. The one you push in the closet when it tells you things like "No one else is going to write this story, you know." Or "Chuck Wendig says you have to finish your shit. I'm pretty sure that means editing your shit." Or "There is a lot of fat in cheese." Sometimes, I hate that voice.
However, the damn thing is always right. No one else is going to edit or write my stories. And I can't write any more of them unless I finish (ie: edit) the ones that need editing. And clearly, I am not adult enough to have the keys to the internet. I've tried to limit myself a little, but a little limitation doesn't appear to be enough.
So says the voice.