I debated which blog to post this in, but since it involves my writing space, I thought it was appropriate for this one.
I’m still four scenes shy of finishing the second draft of Hungry Child. Yesterday, I had a little writer’s block on that story, and I didn’t have any pending client projects, so I decided to clean my office in the hopes that some physical activity might jog something loose in the story center of my brain.
When I started, I only planned to spend an hour or two dealing with some of the clutter and then get back to editing, but I ended up doing a thorough spring cleaning and decluttering that took up the rest of the day. But you guys, it was bad in here. I’ve been neglecting my office lately–I haven’t even worked in here for over a month. Aside from cleaning the cat boxes (my office doubles as the cat room) and vacuuming occasionally, I haven’t really done any cleaning in here since filling it halfway up with my deceased mother-in-law’s files and things.