I'm up to 8 pages. Unfortunately I don't like any of them. I did reread even through I promised I wouldn't. One minute I thought it wasn't so bad, and the next I was convinced I had lost any ability to write that I might have once possessed. No more going back. Promise. Even if my fingers are crossed.
I haven't found the right "voice" for the piece yet. It needs to be light and funny. I am not taking myself seriously with this manuscript. I think I need to spend a little more time getting into the head of my protag so forward progress might be temporarily halted.
I am getting into the swing of things though. Was irritated with hubby last night because he wanted me to hang around drinking V-day champagne and eating chocolates with him instead of hunkering down over the computer. And reading the book he got me. Ahem. Nearly 100 new ways to do something we've already been doing for quite awhile now.
Time out tonight for Grey's Anatomy (hey, it's part 2). Then fingers on the keyboard. I promise.