You’d think only being able to sleep three or four hours at a stretch would increase my writing time. Unfortunately, some of the other side-effects of Prednisone—nausea, headache, tiredness, and don’t get me started on night sweats—have slowed me down. Worse, I haven’t experienced the side-effect I hoped for: loss of appetite. With my luck, I’d gain weight on meth.
But at least my arm feels better. Oh, wait … no, it doesn’t.
Still, we’ve edged closer to finishing preparations for the Girl Scout story, with the aim of having it on the “shelves” before the end of spring. Only four votes were received on the poll for a title, with “Best Session Ever” getting two and the other two split between “No Campfire, Girls” and “Who Keeps Singing?” (Although “No Campfire, Girls” is leading in comments.) There were other comments relating to such things as burning brownies, which I felt wouldn’t fit the target audience.
Some other interesting ideas came in: “Girls On Fire”, which should not be taken literally. (No girls were harmed in the writing of this novella.) An honest to goodness Scout vet suggested “Lackablazical”, which is kind of an inside joke and brilliant, but maybe too obscure.
Then there’s the fact that I still haven’t named my actual group, which is currently going by “Yellowbirds” for no good reason other than that it’s not “Girl Scouts”. Considering my wife’s half done with the cover material and the story’s pretty much ready to be formatted, I’d better get cracking. And by that, I don’t mean my elbow.