It’s time to re-read the Ivie novel. So, naturally, all I want to do is write another story.
Actually, that’s not so natural for me. Usually I’d want to take a long nap, and then eat a great deal of buttered something, and then take a few weeks off to let Ivie percolate, as though she were some kind of coffee. But now, I have Novel Ideas skittering around in my head, snickering at me about how much fun they will be when I let them come out and play.
Sounds like something a Real Writer would say, doesn’t it?
Oh, is anyone interested in a mini-excerpt from the Ivie novel?
All righty, then. Here you go:
“Just pretend I’m her, whoever she is, and look at me when you talk to me.”
“I do look at you when I talk to you.”
“No, you look at my fries to see if I’m going to offer you one. You look at the TV. You look at your phone. Right now you’re looking at yourself in the mirror.”