stockvault-water-faucet152603Well, the “I’m not working” bit from yesterday’s post finally went into effect after two hours of, well, work.

Yeah, I suck at taking a day off.

Unfortunately, my two hours of outlaw toil resulted in only a single sentence of useable writing.

A single sentence that will only be used if I choose a certain title for the Six Brothers project.

A single sentence which could very well be the opening line of the novel, if I go with that certain title…

Of course, all of this still equals a work speed of one sentence per two hours of writing.

Yeah, I apparently suck at work speed too.

Maybe today will be a breakthrough day of writing?

Maybe the romance will flow from my fingers like city water from a faucet?…

Yeah, sucking at the Monday morning pom-pom crap is another highlight of the old resume.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Acclaimed author of 17 novels (my dogs and mother adore me), World traveler (I’ve felt the Sahara Desert between my toes… still gobsmacked over the stars in the Sahara) And survivor (of three dirty-fighting gremlins named Anxiety, Panic and OCD)… My name is Chloe Stowe. Hello. If you’ve found your way here, you’ve most likely arrived on the coattails of my blog, The Words and Madness of Chloe Stowe. Started in 2012, my daily rantings now number in the thousands. Ranging from humorous to moody, poignant to absurd, these tiny tidbits of thought began as a way to get my name “out there.” It has long since morphed into an effort just to “be there” for anybody out there struggling with words or madness, like me. Quick biographical sketch of me? Nerd turned nut at nineteen. In my sophomore year at Auburn University, I was taken out at the knees by severe panic attacks. Chronic anxiety soon joined the dogpile, followed shortly by OCD tendencies. Oh, it was ugly. I eventually had to quit school and soon quit life, as well. I spent a good chunk of my 20’s not able to leave my room. Twenty years later, it’s still can get ugly in my head. Thanks to meds and doctors, however, I am able to lead a better life, now. I still can’t work outside the house, but I can live and smile and write. So, here I am. Broken, but stubbornly present. I hope my voice proves company to someone lonely out there. Thanks for reading! Chloe Stowe

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