Hoisted up by the scruff of my neck, the giant dangles me in front of his nose and sniffs. Anxiety beads up on my writerly face. Grunting in apparent satisfaction, the Writing Binge Beast cracks opens his jaws and swallows me whole.
For the next 8 days I will be residing in this fearsome oaf’s belly. Twisted Intent is due February 28 and I will not draw breath out of the Writing Binge until then.
Ok, people, it’s gut-check time.