Monday, August 20, 2012
Writing Under the Influence
After a hellacious summer, the weather has been delightful here. I've been taking advantage of it by churning out my daily quota of 2,000 words while sitting on the back porch. Saturday morning I set up shop, with my laptop, reading glasses, outline and cup of tea at hand, and started typing. A gentle breeze wafted through the trees, bringing the unmistakable odor of cannabis. And not just the faint scent of a spliff. For a moment, I thought the county sheriff had cracked a major drug ring and was destroying a bale or two of the stuff. The smell lingered for quite a long time. I haven't proofed my work from Saturday yet. I'm almost afraid to read it, the effects of second-hand smoke being what they are.