Okay, I am officially skipping Monday night critique groups now without anything that even remotely resembles an excuse. I'm not too busy working. I'm not so desperate for time with my family that I'm opting to do that instead. My daughter no longer has ball games on Monday nights. I'm not sick. I'm not traveling. I'm not suffering from writer's block (not really).
I. Am. Just. Not. Going.
I can't even trust myself to theorize about what this says about my desires to write a novel. At the Kansas Authors Club meeting on Saturday (which I did go to -- first time I've made it in nearly a year), Mark Bouton asked me how the writing was coming and if I was making it to Monday night critique group.
I said, "No, I've been writing so much (which is partially true) that I've been afraid of letting myself go into editing mode again (which sounded like a pretty good excuse once I heard it)."
Mostly I was just thrilled that a published author such as Mark took the time to ask. I've read his first book, by the way, and I enjoyed it immensely. I'm generally not even a mystery fan, but I will continue to read Mark's books. His second book just came out in August.
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