We’ve reached that dark shadowy valley in our journey – that hollow full of cobwebs, where doubt lives and ideas come to die.

We’ve come to the slimy pool of reflection, where we realize that everyone else has about a gazillion more words than we do, and who do we think we are thinking we can write a book anyway?

We wonder if this book will ever be finished, and even if we do finish, we’re afraid it won’t matter. Because we’re pretty sure our book is just a pile of garbage.

We really wish we had more sleep.

Word Count: 11730

Feeling: Drained