Dressed to write.

I have to get dressed before I can start writing -- or anything else, for that matter.  I can only stay in my bathrobe if I'm sick.  Unlike Linda, who can lounge all day in her jammies.

"It's comfortable," she says.

"Too comfortable," I says.

Anyway, I've been sitting down around noon, after doodling with the intertubes for hours, reading the paper, drinking my coffee.

The two little tricks I'm using seem to work.  The idea that if I sit down for 5 minutes doing anything that I'll probably continue, and the rewriting of chapters at random.

Each chapter seems wildly different in what they need -- some I can't figure much else to do, except tighten the language up.  Others need to be reorganized -- at this point, moving paragraphs or sentences around.  Others new information can be added, and old information cut.

I'm bound and determined to get this rewrite under my belt while the whole book is still in my mind.
For instance, I described one character in one chapter, and the next chapter I work on,  I had described him completely differently.  That sort of thing.

Well, this blog is a bit of procrastination, frankly. 

Better get to work.  (I wish I didn't see it as work -- why do other people seem to like rewriting and I find it tiresome?)