6 Months, 2 Weeks, and 3 Days

February 2010

…Have passed since I began this novel.

to the dream the fires the furnace
give all your heart and soul

*

I have a cold. It will not go away. I have not written a word in nearly a week. It’s like being possessed by some sort of literacy ghost. I cannot fucking type more than a few words before ending it with a period–or, deleting the entire string of conjungulated thought patterns and drippaloptic mish-mash.

I have been more sick since starting this novel then any other time in my cheap and drink-soaked memory. I fear I may be allergic to words. Or, worse still, bad writing.

*

But one thing I can do when I’m sick, is knock the silly shit out of this card game. Progress marches ever onward toward the launch of French Toast Gaming. Every day has been filled with wonderful thoughts and mechanics. The best part being when Blueberry Jones sends everyone new art for the cards.

*

Having a novel just sit in my periphery is driving me insane. I can still think about it though. I can still fix the pieces while I rot between the sheets of my bedroom.

Last Friday, I think…that was my last real day of progress. There wasn’t much writing done (mostly deleting) but I had a few “ah-ha!” moments that I wasn’t expecting, which always catches you by surprise.

-(very sick) mE.

Todd Rogers