I’ve written 16,000 words so far on this first novel of mine. That’s 50 pages. Most publishers don’t accept a novel that is less than 50,000 words, so I have a ways to go, but I have to say, I’m impressed with me. I hadn’t written more than a sentence here and there–mostly editing–for the past few weeks. I became stuck when I lost all interest in the male romantic lead. He was boring! The heroine was becoming more and more fascinating, and he just seemed to be getting stiffer and more obtuse. But I fixed him! I just chipped away at him every night, one sentence at a time. Then last week, something miraculous happened: I got a haircut. The ends of my hair had been subjected to a harsh highlighting treatment months ago, and they just needed to be chopped off. So, I walked into a hair salon, saw a bob on the hairdresser that I loved, and asked if she could give me her haircut. She did, and I loved it! I bought some new make-up, dressed up a little, and suddenly felt very creative. I sat down and wrote two pages. I’ve been writing a page every night since then, and am brimming full of ideas for adventures and misadventures for my heroine. My hero still needs a little work. I need to figure out how he can be charming, kind, and intelligent, yet still be attracted to Caitlyn’s catty arch-nemesis instead of the vivid, brilliant Caitlyn. Last night, my husband suggested: “Well, can’t he just be a little shallow? Make his girlfriend really pretty.” I had higher hopes for Nick, but… “shallow” might just have to do. Sorry, Nick.