Tuesday was my first day without caffeine.
It has been an odd experience mainly because I felt a little like I was playing catch up with myself all week. Let me give you an example.
I woke up Tuesday morning, puttered about, drank *gulp* tisane, and then went to check my email. There was a nice little note from my UK editor regarding the tag lines for the next two books. While I was delighted to be asked my thoughts on the subject, I spent about 20 minutes staring at the tag line for Heartless.
Then I had to get up and putter about the kitchen making breakfast still mystified and confused.
Why? You might ask.
Because I couldn’t remember a single thing about that book. And I’d just finished writing it. I simply couldn’t figure whether the tag line they had provided was suitable or not because I literally couldn’t remember anything about the story. Nothing at all.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is why one should not miss one’s morning cup of tea. (Or mourning cup of tea, as it were.)
Of course, I was relaying this comedy of woe to Dan later that day and he suggested this is just something that happens to authors after they have written five books in the same series. A kind of amnesia peculiar to novelists. Plotnesia, perhaps? I find this, if possible, more terrifying.
Tea, at least, can be integrated back into my life. But if this is normal behavior for novelists, I’m doomed!
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Quote of the Day:
“[I am] a hardened and shameless tea drinker, who has for twenty years diluted his meals only with the infusion of this fascinating plant; whose kettle has scarcely time to cool; who with tea amuses the evening, with tea solaces the midnight, and with tea welcomes the morning.”
~ Samuel Johnson