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I'm standing at my desk because my back is killing me. When my alarm went off this morning I literally yelled at it, "What are you doing, it's Saturday!" Sadly, no, it's Friday. And not it's Friday afternoon and I am 130% done with being at work. And, like, I even like my job well enough. It's took me seven years to dig myself up out of the post-law school hole, it's a good job where I get to do good things for people.

But ugggggh, working is stupid and I would much rather be at home with my cats.

I started writing an original fantasy novel yesterday. A couple few years back I went camping in Northern Michigan, on the shores of Lake Huron. It was August but cold enough that I cut my trip short just because I couldn't deal with the chill anymore. But, while I was there, walking and thinking and photographing, I started putting together some ideas that had been haunting me for years. I came back from that trip with new world that had taken shape. I thought I knew what story I was writing.

I didn't know, because when I finally started writing it, or tried to start writing it, the main character, possibly the entire story, changed before my eyes. So when I say I started writing it, what I really mean is that it started writing itself. And I might have to do some more world-building.

Writing is the worst hobby. I love it so much.
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liptonrm

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