There's Gotta Be Ice Cream Out There Somewhere

What a writer looks like after producing 34,000 words (erm, with drafting equalling maybe another 50,000 words--kinda lost track), even with a collaborator, in basically a total of three weeks. This is me in the evening after finishing an all-day writing session, not waking up in the morning. My wrists hurt. My back isn't having much fun. My eyes really kinda feel bruised. After awhile, though, the whole thing took on a life of its own and the whole rest of the world went away. Deadline met. It was actually kind of fun. But...not sure I ever want to do that again. Hope it was worth it--more info when I have it. My (poor, long-suffering, patient) collaborator appears to be in similar shape, except she actually has had ice cream today. (Ann and I had tapas and red wine, so that was relaxing.)Anyway, worst photo ever. Enjoy! (If you're here on a Friday night, you deserve whatever you get anyway. ;) )