Here is where I start. I don't let myself spend much time on this blogging thing because I would never get to the real work. Once in the real work I never want to stop, but before I am there I rarely want to start. It's fear. Not the kind where your stomach is tied up in knots. A dull fear, like you are trying to stick two magnates together at the wrong end and they repel each other. It's as if there is a force field around my work that I have to push into to actually touch it. And once I'm in there its kind of like I become a Stepford wife. I can actually walk away and function, but I'm a little on automatic pilot. I have been playing with these transitions. Trying to make them more fun. If not fun at least less dreadful. Or I guess "less dread filled." Hence the lord of the book, he is interesting and weird and I don't quite know what will come of it. He's at the front end of my little bit of work time--along with the blog. A nice way to evoke the proper head space, and then at the end I email myself a copy of the draft, I always send a verse of gratitude out into cyberspace along with it, just for good measure. And I've been trying to give myself enough time to take a walk before the kiddos get off the bus. I just have to remind myself to enjoy the transitions. Because I actually know how to do that, I just forget.