A habit hard to break

Our cat Max went missing four months ago, but every time I pass the front the door, I look outside to see if he isn't sitting regally on the landing, tail curled around his paws, waiting to be let in.

Even though I keep looking, I don't believe he's coming back.  Not this time.

Rest in peace wherever you are, Maxwell Soot.

Where the words are

As life with Soëlie settles into a routine and my days are not filled with stress and fears, I find my thoughts turning to my writing again. The urge to write and ideas for WIPs are coalescing in my mind, becoming less vaporous, more tangible and insistent.

I'm still waiting on feedback for Witherwilds, and not wanting to make headway on volume two, only to be told by betas that volume one needs serious work, I find myself musing on other projects. The mind's perennial favorite--my first book--has been in the forefront these past few days, and I've come up with some serious revision ideas.

This being the first year of Motherhood, I'm not setting myself any ambitious goals, writing or otherwise (unless one wants to count survival and raising a happy, healthy daughter as ambitious). However, I'm going to aim for two things to keep my storytelling self happy:

Write 100 words a day, 5 days a week;

and, inspired by asakiyume , I'm going to open one of my writing projects every day. Rereading prose and notes almost always leads to fiddling, and fiddling can lead to new words, or at least improved old ones...