I've been stuck on Chapter 8, mostly because I haven't had the time or energy to think about it clearly. Whenever I hear a famous writer talking about how they write every day, I suspect them of living some sort of sheltered, ivory-tower existence. I've never had the priviledge of subsidized living and consequently loathe it and deride it out of both jealousy and condescension. I've had times both good and bad and have had to spend too much of my time on things like surviving the current day to always get the chance to trot out a few more pages of brilliance.
I should be back on track soon, but first I have to clear about four inches of accumlated anxieties off my desk. The original manuscript is buried under there.