Woke up early this morning — well, early-ish — and planned to spend the whole day writing, working on the second draft of the Undertaker Story.
Read for a bit after Keeley left, having my tea. Listened to The Inferno while I made breakfast.
Dante and Wodehouse in the morning, not a bad way to spend a Saturday.
Felt a little tired after breakfast and the cleaning up, thought I might lie down for a short nap. Didn’t think it’d be much, a half hour or so at most. Plenty of time left in the day, what?
Apparently not. Four and a half hours later I awake, refreshed and ready to start my day all over again. Only it’s just about done.
In the mail I find a response from my first-choice agent . . . a rejection.
Sigh.
No writing done today, a bad form letter lying on the doormat like a stone on a grave.
Well, at least I’m rested. After over a month of averaging three hours of sleep a night, I probably needed it.