I think it's time that I got off the kitchen floor
But is there really any point at all?
Waking up this morning felt the same
I better sleep while life is so mundane
It could have been yesterday that I locked the door
I blocked the windows up so I can't be sure
Now I haven't even got the will to Wii
I'm lame and self-obsessed
That I will concede
I'd like to light a cigarette but I cannot
The light is dead and the gas has been cut off
I'm the one you always seem to read about
The light inside my eyes has long gone out
There's nothing left for me to say or do'Cause all that matters disappeared when I lost you
-Steven Wilson 'Postcard'
These are the lyrics to the link on the right, performed live last year in London. This songs sends chills up my spine. Beautiful. Heart breaking.
82% of the story editted. About 62 pages to go!
I'm tired of editting, but excited. I have been working on this book, on and off, for five years. I guess you have to be compulsive to be a writer. You have to be to finish the damn thing. All the research; all the history and science i read during the writing of a novel; prep and during, is incredible. But, 'tis surely a labor of love.
It's done. The novel is done.
For those of you with e-readers, let me know what file your device supports.
Done. Done. Done.
Alright. i haven't eaten all day. I should eat some food. Maybe run to Sol and take shots for the front cover. I know exactly what i'm going shoot.