Plugging away

[ksmith]

Doesnt everyone spend the night before T-giving first-drafting the next book?



The night air tasted sharp, as though it had flowed over ice on its way to the island. Jani tightened the fasteners of her weatherall's throatpiece, then worked her hands deeper into her pockets. Gloved though they were, they ached, as did her face, her feet. I used to run about in a t-shirt and trainers in weather like this. Back when she was thirteen, and impervious to weather. Back in her human days.

Comments

[rolanni.livejournal.com]

Not this year. This year, I packed chapbooks. More of the same today, with the house already smelling like baking bird.