I've already apologized to my mother-in-law because I didn't do my dishes this morning. The dishes I left sitting there after our Boise State football party last night: two empty cookie Tupperwares and a salad bowl.
And now I need to apologize to all my other friends who I've been ignoring. People are sending me emails, Facebook messages, and I'm not replying.
Because I'm binge writing.
It's horrible and wonderful all at the same time.
I wake up. I get the kids off to school. I go on a walk. I read my Bible.
Then I binge write.
Binge writing is akin to binge drinking. But instead of counting empty beer bottles, you count pages written.
It involves writing every waking second.
I pause to answer a child's question. Today I even paused long enough to take the kids to the library and to the playground.
But whenever there's a spare moment, even a two-second-long moment when nobody's crying for me; like, if they're happily playing or looking at books or eating lunch, you'll find me at the computer, pounding out my novel.
As a result, these edits are flying out faster than a speed roller skater on roller skates.
So, sorry if I'm ignoring you. I'll surface for air -- and emails -- soon.
After the book's done, that is.