14,013, (NANO). Didn’t write a lick or a word yesterday. Made stuffed bellpeppers–sauteed Japanese eggplant, garlic, shallots, red bellpepper, a Habanero pepper, chopped fine, and chopped roasted chicken, rice, and a cup and a half of home-made basil and garlic tomato sauce. Demolished one (yum!) as soon as it was done and cool enough to eat, and froze the others for later.
Today’s work made up for yesterday. Most of it is dreck, but there’s some good stuff, stuff with potential, in there. Each day of writing is like standing on a ledge surrounded by fog and knowing the abyss is just one more step forward. But each day I write, I step forward on that ledge, and solid ground grows under my feet, like a bridge that builds itself with each step you take in crossing it. Stopped today in mid-scene, leaving myself a way to start tomorrow. Hemingway’s technique.
