I feel I ought to do something special to kick off this second year of daily writing: concoct a new writing theme, set a professional goal, or even vow to write every day. And then suddenly I don’t.
Copeland knew things.
Yep. That’s all I wrote yesterday. The brevity of it highlights how good I’ve become over the past year’s worth of days of writing. How I can compact so much stuff into such a small space. Tell me you didn’t laugh when you realized the twist ending.