Today it is the usual round of trash and recycle pick up, laundry, and general tidying the cottage from the fun of the weekend. Or it would be, if I weren't so busy trying to wrap my mind around writing a novel. Of course, I am still doing all of my Monday tasks, but my mind is not as focused on them as it has been.
Today I am thinking about voice, names, countries, story lines. Fleshing out a fantasy world that has existed only in my daydreams. This writing it down is more difficult than threading a story through my head for my own consumption. It feels more vulnerable, somehow. More dangerous.
I am starting a whole new adventure.