Sometimes writing is like pulling teeth. I am in grave danger of having a clean room today. So far I am resisting the siren call of well, anything but writing. I've taken out the garbage and emptied the shredder and tossed some magazines I'll never get around to reading. Now I'm eyeing some of the paper on my desk. I'd probably be able to write easily if there weren't all this paper here.

Must resist . . . be stronger than paper. I am a rock. Oh, wait, paper beats rock. I am scissors!! Yes. Scissors! Which reminds me. Where are my scissors? I should go find them. Wonder if they're under this pile of paper?

The good news is I started writing a chapter whose sole purpose was to get me from one interesting chapter to the next one. And I stopped. I deleted it all and started over with a chapter that now has my hero and heroine in it. And now, I am going to stop procrastinating and go get right to the exciting bits. You know, with kissing and stuff in it.