I think I look fairly balanced, if not sane. Even so, I definitely have my
What-in-the-world-are-you-thinking? moments.
Each morning Bailey shifts into wide-awake mode and decides that he has had just about enough of my sitting behind the silver machine that glows. He barks a talking kind of bark, then lets out these marvelous soft howls:
A-Woooo00000
A-Woooo00000
A-Wooooooooo, werewolves of London; A-Wooooooooo, werewolves of London.
This morning, I wrote quickly and efficiently on chapter three from my book while just down the street my friend, research assistant, and editor Gayle read and wrote feedback on the introduction and first two chapters. We were firing on all cylinders. Just so you know, quickly and efficiently equals being on a roll (in the flow), and no writer likes to stop mid paragraph or mid page when the words are flying onto the screen of our silver writing machines. But then there's the puppy and 10:30 am....
With Bailster's bear paws flopping onto my keyboard and up-side my face, his A-Wooooooo's broke the silence of the kitchen and I snapped,
"Bailey. I need to write this book. It could sell well... and if it does, you'll have a nice RV to travel in ... otherwise, you'll be cooped up in a -blanking- crate down by the river..." I laughed... and then thought, I'm talking to my dog.
And you know, I think that's a very healthy sign.