When stuff piles up around me and to-do lists grow longer rather than shorter, motivation slides away, seeping through floor boards, leaving only a scent of accomplishment without the satisfaction.

What does accomplishment smell like? To me, sorta pinewoody with a hint of honeysuckle. I know. Inside me, senses and emotions tangle together.

Such is today. Got one book whining for editing, two knitting projects moping on needles, handful of books taunting me about withheld information, a second book hung on plot elements and all I want to do is peruse Pinterest. Window shopping electronically, like smelling fake food some people use as a decorative item. Eeuuuwww.

Crazy part is, I know the only out is pick a project and work at it. This particular mood strikes when the piles surround me like a thick forest of demands, scratching at me, poking, nagging, using every guilt tool in the box.

So, Patient Reader, you perform the valuable, and unenviable function of providing mild relief to the tyrant in my head. If I do one thing in a positive direction, I will have done One Thing!

And somehow it works. In the last few lines as I wrote this not so deathless prose, I’ve done away with wads of fluffy adjectives, rewrote passive verbs out of existence and disposed of four clichés. Honestly, you should see the raw writing fall from my fingers. Or maybe you shouldn’t.

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