I decided to take the weekend off. Not that I've been busting a gut working or anything, but I just think some breathing room, time to do something else and not feel guilty for 'not working' when as I've mentioned before 'working' so often translates into a rotation between Facebook and the blogs I check everyday, is a pretty good idea.
I actually did some proper writing today - pages and pages. Not necessarily brilliant, actually quite straightforward, basic writing along the lines of 'the dog jumps over the fence,' but definitely a breakthrough given that I haven't hit that stride which brings forth pages and pages for a long long time.
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Link: Cary Tennis' advice column yesterday was on writing, and it contains some solid tips relating to Virginia Woolf's mandate of a writer needing money and a room of one's own.
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