That's me, looking at the calendar and then at the stack of things I need to do. It's gotten to the point that I'm even feeling guilty that last week I stole some time to read a couple of new books. This is terrible.


Two months later than I'd hoped, I'm starting to write an eighty thousand word novel. I've only tried writing a book this long once before, years ago, and it was a horrid mess. I've learned a lot since then, but one lesson stands out: this is going to be a huge effort.


A few days ago, Broken Tunes recommended Tai Pan by James Clavell to me when I mentioned that this book will be set in the Kimberley region of Western Australia, cyclone country. I checked it out of the library yesterday and ... I hate to confess it: I'm going to cheat.


I have truly run out of time, energy and mental space. Unless someone can send me some, I'm going to skip reading all of Tai Pan (I'm not a fan of sagas even when I have that illusory thing called "free time") and just read the ending with the cyclone in it. I hate being that sort of person, one who doesn't live the whole story, but desperate times means desperate measures.


At least with Easter coming up, chocolate is in my future :)


What do you do (or drop) when you run out of time?