I actually got a long patch of dialogue in the car, almost fully-formed, which is always a good sign for starting to be ready to actually write -- a South Asian woman arguing with her parents about her love life. Yes, I know I've tread this ground before, but this time, they're unhappy that she's dating an ALIEN. And they themselves are in a triad, or were, before their partner passed away. So it's different, see?
Okay, talking to you guys is not actually the same as making notes. It's almost the same, but if I don't put the notes in the right place, in my manuscript, I will never find them again here on Facebook. Off I go for ten minutes of notes. It's not exactly a writing day, but it's better than nothing.
P.S. In grad school, I had a meeting with my advisor, Katharine Coles, where I was freaking out at her because I thought I was in a rut, because I kept writing about mothers and daughters and marriage. And she [metaphorically] took me by the shoulders and shook me until I calmed down, and then told me that it wasn't a rut, that those were my TROPES. I felt much better. Thank you, Katie!
P.P.S. Also, while we're here, let me thank you for that moment in the hallway just before my oral exams, when I was literally hyperventilating, and you happened to notice while casually checking in on me, and you taught me how to do deep breathing. It saved me that day, and has been very helpful at various points since then, including just before being wheeled in for my first c-section. Thanks thanks thanks. Teachers never know when they're changing people's lives.