Okay, May 1st, I'm Ready for the Blooms, but this Requires You to Warm the Northeast Up a Little, too.

I sort of fibbed yesterday. I'm taking part in a writing-accountability group with my support team from Syracuse, and we've been challenging one another to find 30-minutes each day to write. I, however, am past a deadline, and know my writing processes are unusual. Even when I'm not working on a writing project, I'm usually writing for another project, if that makes any sense. Yet, with this group, we named a single project, and I've been focused entirely on it. I reported my 30-minutes yesterday, but the truth is I wrote for almost 11 hours. I have a goal to get the piece to where I wanted it by 6 p.m. today. By 9 p.m. last night, I was heading to the next phase...

...cutting 1,698 words, because I overwrite and that's the way I roll. This morning, I will continue. It's better to be in the 'kill your darlings' phase than the 'what the #@$# am I trying to say' one.

I also realize I can't write without storytelling. I can do the research points - make the argument - but there's also personal tales that are needed to justify all that I'm saying. Of course, that needs to be academic, too. I just realize I have a need to share details in order for me to convince myself why I'm naming what I'm naming. They are easy 'darlings' to cut (don't no one care, Crandall).

And the piece is getting there...and so is a return to winter.

Brrrr. What's with the winds, rain, and cold temperatures this weekend? A week ago we were exploring the buds popping their heads from branches and perennials peaking out from the soil ready to show who they are. Now, I imagine, they're screaming, "Retreat. Retreat. Retreat. It smells like snow up there. It's not looking good. Go back. Go back."

I'm not blooming this morning, but feeling more refreshed than I've felt when the project was weighing heavily on me. It's never the writing...I do that incessantly. It's the deadlines and due dates. They get me every time!

Either way, TGIF. I did a grocery run as a mini-break in my writing marathon and that was enough to skeeve me out for a while (is skeeve not a word? how is it spelled?). Yuck, universe. Lift this plague from us.

And give me a window of no rain so I can run 5 miles. Thanks.