On Writing

The Bells

Notre-Dame de Paris is an interesting story, but perhaps the most fascinating bit is how a raging introvert has a job that involves making a lot of noise.

Perhaps that’s unfair.  Quasimodo might not have been an introvert.  Sometimes we don’t get to pick a path, right?

Regardless, today was a day of noise: I had a crew over doing some home repairs*.  These guys were great – they did the job they said they would, and more.  But – and we should agree, this is a first world problem – when you’ve got people climbing on your roof with drills, or taking a sander to windows, there’s no place you can escape from it.

* You might ask why I don’t do home repairs myself.  Simple: I can’t be trusted with tools that use electricity.  And I’m not the kind of person to use a handsaw when a bandsaw exists, you know?

Anyway, today’s words were a darn site harder than they were yesterday.  It’s hard to write a sonnet next to a construction yard.  And yet:

Word goal: 2,500.  Word achievement: 3,200.  But this time, my head hurts.  There’s only one thing for it: I need to embrace my inner writer, find my smoking jacket, and get drunk.  See you tomorrow.