I'm exhausted. Yes, I love writing, and there is nothing like a deadline and a check for motivation, but three days of being chained to this laptop re-writing and restructuring a two hour made for TV movie from near-scratch was a bit much. It's one of those show-biz projects where there are more chefs than the Food Network, and alliances alter faster than the first 6 episodes of Survivor. The end result (or close to it) may be worth the effort — we will know soon enough. My new SAINT novel, THE RETURN OF THE SAINT, was shifted to the proverbial back burner, and my search for a new true crime case was delegated to a trusted friend while I put all my time and energy into the one urgent project.
As for exhaustion, I'm not a big fan. Perhaps this sort of work schedule was tolerable when I was younger, but now that I have crept into an age that I find shocking (I am HOW old?), I think a bit of self-indulgent relaxation is in order. So, tonight I am writing absolutely nothing — unless you count this blog!
AND — I'm going to bed!