The air conditioner in the house isn't working. As far as I can tell, it needs to be recharged.
But we didn't have money for that AND the mortgage, so we figured we'd pay the mortgage, survive the week, and then fix the A/C when some expected checks come in after we go on Tim's next tour to Idaho (we leave Monday).
So it's been almost unbearably hot in the house, even with fans going and our little swamp cooler chugging away, trying to cool 1200 square feet instead of 225. It's really only hot between 3:00 and 9:00 pm. As soon as the sun goes down, Colorado cools off and we can throw open all the doors and windows and put fans in them and blow the house comfortable again. But for the time of day right after we wake up until 9:00, it's around 85 degrees inside, hotter out, and pretty close to miserable. See, when it's 85 degrees in the house and you're pregnant, you don't do dishes, cook, eat, pick up toys, fold laundry, or even move unless you have to.
So how do I escape?
I edit my novel.
Some people read books to escape miserable circumstances. I write them. And I rewrite, revise, edit, etc.
I've been pretty pleased with my novel as I've gone along. And really unsure of the beginning still. Beginnings are what you get judged on, and they're my weakest point.
So at dinner (at midnight, after it had cooled off), I expressed that to Tim. Turned out some of the kids were listening, too. Anda, my fairly well-read 7 year old, said earnestly, "But Mom, many authors have poor beginnings. You don't have to worry about that."
So there you have it. According to my kids, "many" authors of children's novels aren't very good at beginnings. I guess I'm in good company, then!
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