Today, I want to write.  Really write.  I want to print out my novel-in-progress and attack it with a yellow highlighter and red pen.  I want to figure out the damn timeline and people’s ages once and for all.  I want to wallow in words.   

I want to rewrite what’s been written to make it punchy and vibrant.  I want my readers to crave the next page if only to consume more quirkiness.   

In short, I want my brain to soar like my main character Laynie’s does when she is deep into transcription: 

Deep into it, fingers flying, right and left brains soaring, Latinate language free-falling in pixels to magnetic medium, Laynie. . .  

Even when I’m telling and not showing, I want to get away with it through choice of language and strength of character. 

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