I realized as I drifted off to sleep last night the reason I’ve been having problems with the scene I’ve been trying to write since this time last month. I caused the wrong person to become ill after the funeral. I had the wrong person fall beneath the psychological affects of this. :grumble: So now I get to go in and rework twenty-two pages. Fun times ahead!!
But at least I got the research completed and now understand plastic bags on a more intimate level than ever before. Right? Right? :smash:
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Published by Mari Adkins
Appalachian gothic fiction writer - my works reflect a love of literature flavored by the darkness and magic residing in these ancient mountains. In my spare time, I'm a Simmer, I tumbl, I journal, but I always have a very strange sense of humor. I have lived away from the mountains and lived deep in the mountains. I currently live in Central Kentucky with my lifepartner and his cat. The mountains, their culture, their superstitions, their particular magics, will always be in my blood.
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