the tale of the zombie writer
A body needs sleep. That should go without saying. But it's when you don't get said sleep, that things become interesting.
My editor called me last night to go over my content edit for To Katie With Love. And since both of us are self-proclaimed night owls, we spent the better part of four hours on the phone discussing the changes needed for my book.
We laughed, we debated, we discussed (I'm sure we got off the subject more than once, we're women, it's what we do best), but still...four hours on the phone. Not that I'm complaining, there's little I like more than talking on the phone, especially when the topic is my work in progress.
But when we hung up at 3 am, I knew I should have crawled into bed and thrown the covers over my head. That's what I should have done, but that's not what I did. Instead, I started working on the edits that should realistically take me at least a week to complete (in the best of circumstances) and found myself more than half way through when I finally passed out around noon, getting just under five hours of sleep before I was back at it.
I don't think it would shock anyone if I said I needed a nap. And believe me I do, but I find myself wanting to push through and finish before daylight breaks again. And if I know me...I'll pull it off. I might look like death on the other side, but hell, as my mother never said...beauty is pain...and life is about sacrifices.
Ok, so maybe she said something about leaving the cap off the toothpaste or making sure to pee after having sex. Which is really good advice to prevent bladder infections. But, perhaps, not applicable to this conversation.
Maybe I should take a little nap after all.
Until the next time...I'll be editing!