“I’m stuck.” Sally said as I hung my purse on the chair and shucked off my jacket. Outside, the last remnants of a late-season snow clung to the ground. I’d had to dig out my Uggs for a trip to town for our weekly chat. “Good,” I said. “What do you mean, good? I thought you were rooting for me!” “I am. But let me guess – you’re in chapter six or seven and the thrill of the first act has worn off, and now you’re slogging through the middle, wondering what to do next.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “How do you know that?” “I’ve written thirty-five books. I know what happens around chapter seven.” I smiled at her and sipped my coffee. A raspberry white chocolate indulgence. […]
Read the RestArchive | April, 2012
