There’s Gotta Be Ice Cream Out There Somewhere

What a writer looks like after producing 34,000 words (erm, with drafting equalling maybe another 50,000 words–kinda lost track), even with a collaborator, in basically a total of three weeks. This is me in the evening after finishing an all-day writing session, not waking up in the morning. My wrists hurt. My back isn’t having much fun. My eyes really kinda feel bruised. After awhile, though, the whole thing took on a life of its own and the whole rest of the world went away. Deadline met. It was actually kind of fun. But…not sure I ever want to do that again. Hope it was worth it–more info when I have it. My (poor, long-suffering, patient) collaborator appears to be in similar shape, except she actually has had ice cream today. (Ann and I had tapas and red wine, so that was relaxing.)

Anyway, worst photo ever. Enjoy! (If you’re here on a Friday night, you deserve whatever you get anyway. ;) )


  1. Hellbound Heart says

    nuffin’ like the feeling of having spent all day hunch over a computer tapping on the keys…..head feeling like a nerf ball…..

    did you turn to ash when you went out into the sunlight and fresh air?

    peace and love…….

  2. Hannu Blommila says

    Well, I looked pretty much the same after I had finished the translation of The Troika few years ago. Come on, give Jeff some ice cream!

  3. says

    OK – When you say “tapas”, do you mean going out to a great Spanish place and having the spicy small plates of almonds, shrimp, muscles and cheeses? or do mean “tapas” like I tell my husband it is when I take all the dribs of leftovers out of the fridge and try to pass it off as traditional Spanish bar food?