How much better a book would this have been if I gotten up every single day from 7 to 9 a.m. to work on it, and again in the evening from 9 to 10?
That had been my fantasy at the start of this project. Instead, on many, many mornings, despite having planned, even vowed, to work on the book, I lolled in my bed, played with my cat, read a Scandinavian mystery, and fell back asleep.
Beautiful wisps of sentences appeared in my head as I lay in bed. I must write them down, I thought, but not yet. It felt so good to lie down, basking in the potential of my words.
And then, once I got up, there were things I needed to check: my email, my Facebook, my Twitter account, the papers, Match.com. After I had done all these things, it would be time to go to work, or, if it was the weekend, to go back to bed and read.