I am covered in mosquito bites.
I have already complained about this on multiple social media platforms, but dear god, it bears repeating. There are SO MANY. I keep finding more, even though I got back from my annual rural family vacation yesterday. The vast majority of them are on my feet, also known as the worst possible place for mosquito bites. I am contemplating turning my feet in for an updated model, for mine are clearly ruined forever.
I have no one but myself to blame for the millions of mosquito bites on my person. It’s possible that I went traipsing through the woods without bug spray. Wearing flip-flops. In my defense, I had intended to just walk up and down the road, but was distracted by a forest trail that I hadn’t been in yet. And while it was probably still a lapse in judgment to walk that way, it was a very nice trail, and I was far removed from practical matters at that particular moment in time. I was thinking about werewolf story, which I had just re-outlined.
The third draft is officially underway!
I enjoy third drafts. I consider them the “first good drafts.” This doesn’t mean that it’ll be the last draft by any means (I’m currently querying draft six of story). But now is when the story I really want to tell will start to reveal itself. I’m feeling good about the outline and the first four chapters that now exist. Also, werewolf story finally has a tentative title?!?! Which I’m not going to put on here yet, because it’s less than a week old and we mustn’t be hasty. But I think I’m feeling good about that, too. I suppose I can deal with having acquired several thousand mosquito bites while thinking about this book. Benadryl and werewolves will get me through this trying, itchy time.