I've spent the last few weeks in a medically-induced stupor. Not even the good kind where I'd get to see pretty colors; the lame kind where my brain is about as useful as a skull full of pudding. Oh, and to add insult to injury, the side-effects have turned back the clock to my moody teenage years. Yay! :/
The blank pages are driving me insane. I wonder if it's worth the risk of writing like my 16-year-old self. *shudder* I might try it. Worst-case scenario I could always pitch it to a YA market. :D
