(no subject)

Since dawn I have slept in a desultory manner while the first half of a women's history article wrote itself in my mind. I decided the best approach would be to get out of bed and write the thing. I got out of bed and sat down at the computer and realised that my dream-mind had given me a boring article.

At least I know what not to write...

I'm going to spend the rest of the morning watching cartoons and sequencing material for fiction. No writing for me until my brain has decided it's allowed to be interesting again.

(no subject)

My brain is still boring. I wrote the first 250 words of the article anyway. Weep for me. Or, better, weep for anyone who reads those first 250 words. Or better, don't weep, for I shall edit them into submission when the next weather change has gone through.

I haven't done anything I had planned to do today, apart from those 250 words, but I've done a bunch of bibliographical stuff. I'm more advanced than I thought I was in my research. Only in the research for the novel, though. I'm exactly where I thought I was in terms of the dissertation. This is a bit of a surprise.