5 pages, 5 pages only.
The past week has been a carnival of sneezes, headaches, desperate searches for ibuprofen and anti-cough pellets and eventually dragging myself around the house. This flu striken writer isn’t well performing when it comes to revise a manuscript under the influence of a virus.
But when it was the time to go to bed, I was weirdly awake, just as if I had swallowed 5 liters of coffee and I never – ever drink coffee. And during seven days, my brain lingered in a mush mud my neurones stubbornly refused to quit.
So, here is the itch. Revision demands a lot of full working neurones and a bunch of high velocity synapses.
There’s no need to insist on this checkpoint. I knew a reality check was on the way. Last week doesn’t matter (says my ever conscience clean wiping inner small voice). This week does. I feel like it is going to be critical. The ultimate test. Do I stick to my wish to finish my novel or do I give up ?