Stuck between a desire to write something new, but also binge watch the rest of a season on Netflix. It’s clear which one is more important. Isn’t it?
I’ve been sitting at my laptop writing/editing for over four hours now. What’s going to happen in episode five?
A short story I wrote three years ago still doesn’t have a home. I’ve been working on the narration between rejections. When I feel it’s working I send it out again. When it comes back I dive in for more edits. Someday it won’t come back. That’s the goal at least. That’s always been the goal.
Last episode their ship lost electricity. The music got tense. I got nervous. The crew was scrambling. My coffee was cold. They were drifting through space towards a black hole.
I’m surrounded by notes for new stories, plot fixes for old stories. I’ve been drifting aimlessly all morning.
I wonder how they’ll turn the electricity back on. My bill was twenty dollars higher this month than last month. I wonder why that is.
The black hole draws closer, pulling me towards the couch. The caffeine, my electricity, tries to keep me on course.
I bet they’ll figure something out. They always do. There’s a way out of their predicament. Love that word.