Hard to say which awful part of writing a book is the best awful part. My friends would probably be best qualified to comment. I'm at the point in the process that tries even the best friend's soul and patience.I'm generally unavailable. When I'm available, all I can talk about is me, my, mine -- even more so than usual.
Anyone who doesn't think the Jewish roots of Christian worship is the most fascinating subject on the planet is S.O.L. when interacting with me. I am, however, capable of talking about cooking, cats, and cleaning. I have big plans to remove and clean all the brass hardware on my kitchen cabinets.
Food issues come to the fore, which should be obvious to anyone reading my blog. Two nights ago I received this email message from Ruth, "did you eat?" I'm held temporarily captive by strange random thoughts like, "Why does fish food smell like fish? Isn't that cruel? People food doesn't smell like people."
And so it goes. This is my current so-called reality, one that I know is experienced by other authors at this point in the book writing process. Very comforting. So, why does fish food smell like fish?
