I am a perfectionist. I am particular, generally, about the way things appear. Especially things that I create. I care about appearances. I like being in control of those things. I like knowing how I want a thing to look, and being able to make it look that way.
But I swear, the first thing that’s going to go when I have the income to support it is doing my own covers and interiors. I’m going to get someone who does it professionally or train someone to do it to my standards. Either one – I’m not picky. It’s such a time suck.
Last night, I didn’t do anything toward publishing. I have to do the final layout portion of my cover still, and instead, I dug a hole in Minecraft. It’ll be a slime farm, so I dug a hole with purpose, but it was still a hole. It was fun, with a decent pickaxe. Then just before bed, I managed 372 fiction words (for a total of 670 total words). Those 372 words broke me out of that death spiral chapter I was stuck in (I hope) and can get me back on track.
The rest of the day was fine, too. This morning everyone is sluggish except for me, who got the benefit of an alarming wake-up call in the form of a rocketing cat knocking things off the side table and using my hip as a launchpad. To where I do not know. But I am awake, so I’m grateful for that.
Good morning, Friday!