...you're writing a scene set in a country your book never names, taking place at a time you never specify, and you find yourself looking up newspaper headlines, phases of the moon, and days of the week to be sure you've got them right.
Thanks to lining up in front of our local children's bookstore at 11:30 last night (since I'd gone to bed at 9:40 and by 11:20 I still hadn't got to sleep), I ended up being only the third person to buy a copy of OotP in town. I would have been the second, except that I let a twelve-year-old girl dressed up as Hermione go ahead of me, because... well, if you'd seen her, you would have, too. (It was a great costume. And her hair was wonderfully bushy.)

Then I drove home, put the book on the kitchen table, and went straight to bed. Slept very poorly, thanks to the baby waking up and yelling intermittently for reasons which are still obscure. Dreamed about, of all things, The Hulk. (No, I haven't seen it. Wasn't even particularly planning to.)

And now I am writing this entry and listening to the kids chase each other around the house...

...when I could be starting OotP.

Erm.

Excuse me.

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rj_anderson

May 2017

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