got your head held high and you feel just fine 'cause you do what you're told

I listened to a *lot* of "The Hand That Feeds" by Nine Inch Nails today. First I played it loudly through my headphones at work while I brutally slogged all day (and made the most terrible playlist ever using the iTunes Genius function, which managed to pull together a mash of all the most embarrassing angry-white-dudes-yelling songs I have on my laptop, which were eminently satisfying given my mood). Then, I just listened to it for an hour or two while doing edits to a key scene between Ferguson, his sister, and his father the duke (who is overbearing but not evil). I had been listening to "Alejandro", but it wasn't giving me the right mood, so I had to switch.

It's suddenly midnight, though, and while I'm happy with the progress I made tonight (continuing to make some major breakthroughs on how the book is going to end and what the structure is to lead up to that, and rewriting/combining/tightening some scenes), I should have procrastinated less and progressed more (or at least earlier in the night). As I mentioned, the slog today was brutal, and will remain brutal for the next couple of weeks. But, I came home at six and made myself some home fries for dinner (I adore fried potatoes; this time I added bacon, and it was like a super-unhealthy meal all by itself), and then took care of some email and generally procrastinated until around nine p.m. That's when I finally decided to get in gear and work on zee romance novel; unfortunately, had I decided to work on it at 7:30 instead of reading the latest issue of Romantic Times Book Reviews, I could have been done by 10pm instead of staying up late again tonight.

But, c'est la vie (or at least that's my usual vie). I have to slog desperately all day tomorrow, but I hope to write some more tomorrow night; I'm seeing the light at the end of the plot tunnel, and while I still have a lot to write/rewrite, the way is becoming clearer (until a boulder smashes into the path fifty pages from the end, as I'm sure it will, but I will deal with that dream-crusher when I get to it). And so, I shall go to bed now, and dream of Madeleine and Ferguson and all the delightful and not-so-delightful things they will do to and with each other between now and the end of the book. Goodnight!