Slacker!

That is what I've officially changed my name to. I'm in the home stretch here, ladies and gentleman (or lady and gentleman, completely depending on who, if anyone, reads this), with only five chapters left. Yet here I am, still five chapters left, catching up on Once Upon a Time and reading eight thousand books at once (I think another gushing post is coming up, because I've read some real winner lately, no sarcasm intended). And I've picked the worse time to push this story to the side. In the next seven days, my boyfriend and I have four concerts to go to, and my birthday to celebrate (the big 3-0, or so I've heard people say over and over again). Then, next weekend, we're going to the LA Times Festival of Books, which happens to coincide with Record Store Day. I'm simply booked!

Since I work with kids who usually don't want to do their homework, I constantly point out that SpongeBob episode where he procrastinates on writing an essay, and that kicks them into gear. I wish I could say the same for me. On some deep, philosophical level, I'm sure that I'm procrastinating because I don't want to end this story, because the characters are so precious to me, but right now, I'm thinking about killing them all because I want to get it done! Maybe it's for the best if I walk away for a few days. Of course, I've walked away for about four days at this point, and I think that's enough vacation for me. And them. I can just imagine my characters frozen in place, wondering when in the heck their creator is going to get back them. How sad.

So here's me powering through. If I don't have this thing done before my next post, I'm quitting. Probably not, but that's motivation, right?