I'm giving myself the weekend off. This is so exciting. I'm going to finish re-reading "When Demons Walk" -- even in her early books, Patricia Briggs is an amazing storyteller. Sometimes I think it's an innate talent and can't be taught or learned.
A friend has trusted me with her debut manuscript, so I'll be reading that too. I started it yesterday and the premise is fabulous and the dialogue zings. I love good dialogue. It's not how people really talk, but it needs to give that illusion. An art.
The fence is up! The fence is up! The side fence blew down in the storm, and I missed it -- for privacy but most of all, to keep the dog safe. Much less stress now that Toby can go out by himself and I don't need to worry he'll wander where he shouldn't. Putting the fence up took all of yesterday and was noisy, but so worth it.
I'd love to sneak away to an art show this weekend. I'm not sure though that I'll defeat my own sloth and manage it. Fortunately, Sunday is predicted to be cool and grey, so I'm going to use that as an excuse to stay home and watch the Rugby League grand final on TV. They generally have the best half time entertainment -- yes, I'm that shallow when I'm slothing.
Next week is release week for my contemporary romance, Kiss It Better (less than a dollar on pre-order till 8 October), so some slothing this weekend is like preventative medicine because I get so stressed when a book comes out. I'll also apologise a bit in advance because although I try not to be all about my books on this blog, I probably will be a bit that way this week -- but the fever passes quickly, so please forgive me!