I’m going to whine. I’m in the oh-my-heavens, every muscle in my body aches stage of a cold, and I’m trying to add emotion to my story.
Yesterday, edited 18 pages, and ended up with a net gain of 0 words. That would be because I didn’t have emotion, and I had some blah blah blah on the pages. Along with pushy secondary characters who needed to go to their own homes and stay out of my hero and heroine’s very important business.
Meanwhile, the beloved is building bookcases. He wanted one for his office and apparently couldn’t find one that was made of actual wood so he decided to make his own. I’ve been begging him to make some for me for years. (He made me one many years ago, but he didn’t consider it lovely enough, so when my back was turned during a move, he dumped it in the portable dumpster.) This is also one of his rejects. He meant to add three shelves, and he was so distraught at having only set in two, that he couldn’t bear to keep it.
I love a perfectionist!