Friends--a little ways back I made reference to how impossible it was to jump back into something after you've been away from it for so long, and I made a sweepingly clever reference to starting to run, and then eventually training for a marathon. That all seemed well and good when I was just writing about the idea of getting back into something, but in actual practice, I kind of hate it.
Who are these characters I wrote about? Jumping back into this was like having lived in Denmark for eight years, leaving for twenty, and trying to come back and enter a Danish spelling bee... things sounded vaguely familiar and I could remember what the main point of whatever I was trying to do was, but sub-points were lost on me, and small, less influential characters bounced off my brain like small, inexpensive Superballs. So I guess what I'm trying to say is: I can't write right now. I need to go back and read the entire book-- a briefly daunting task, but probably necessary seeing how I did write it-- and then make notes of where things need to change. And I need to print the book out, another daunting task in the age of interweb, and something I will inevitably do at my father's house.
So the best way that I can rationalize things in the age of rationalization is by saying that at least I know where I need to start, and I know what I need to do, and my fresh eyes will probably wreak editing havoc on the weakest links within my book, destroying them, and making them flee their homes where they have complacently sat in rent-controlled comfort due to my lazy managing of the space.
Please tell me you fared better or at least fared in an exactly parallel manner, giving us something to talk about waiting in line for drinkz during the Comments reception.