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Postprandial and Useless

I hate myself when I haven’t had coffee. I went to me monthly writer’s club today and could only stay for the first hour and half. There wasn’t anywhere in the entire place (we meet at a mall’s cafeteria) where I could get an iced coffee so I took off. Not only had I not read the submissions for the month, I could barely keep my eyes open. It should be by best ON time. I should be hammering away on all eight. It’s a writers’ meeting for godsake! But there I was, useless, listless and half-asleep with the brie and turkey sandwich still kicking around somewhere in my upper GI tract. I shouldn’t have gotten any food, just a huge vat of iced coffee. Who needs food? It makes you stupid.

In the first hour of the meetings, we engage in “writers’ speak”, a round table of sorts which is the best part of these meetings. One of the subjects of the day was the summer’s writing goal. Well, it’s official. I spoke about it in the hearing of a dozen witnesses. That horrid rewrite I’ve been dreading but know more each day that it needs to get done. London. I will rewrite the entire London scene and with its completion, doom will be writ for a large part of the Beginning. It’s too long and boring. I have to find a way to cut it and that cut will be the expansion of the London interlude. Everyone knows about it now.

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