I've decided that Sundays belong to me. I do work only if I feel like doing it. Today I did my laundry, and I did all my dishes, and I cleaned my apartment.
Mostly, however, I worked on my novel. I've only got two paragraphs of actual writing done, though. Mostly I've been working on mapping out my characters, figuring out who they are, and what makes them do what they do. My main character is, in some ways, very much like me. I guess because my experiences here inspired quite a bit of the plot. So in a lot of ways, I know Janie very very well. She's me. Not entirely, of course, but there are definitely aspects of me talking through her. The challenge, now, is to figure out what I don't know about Janie.
And I guess to decide if what I don't know about her is the stuff I don't know about her, or the stuff I don't know about myself.
A Mask -- a perpetual natural disguiser of herself,
Concealing her face, concealing her form,
Changes and transformations every hour, every moment,
Falling upon her even when she sleeps.
--Walt Whitman
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