Sometimes you just need to retreat.

No, I’m not talking about the kind of retreat where you curl up in a ball and hide from the world because rejection number three thousand five hundred and ninety-nine has just found its way to your inbox.

I’m talking about the “lock yourself away and write until your fingers fall off” variety.

That’s the kind of retreat I’ve been blessed to undertake for the last several days while on vacation from the day job.

Okay, I still have all ten fingers … nine of my toes, too. The tenth is numb after its run-in with my exercise bike. Being the klutz I am, I kicked the dumb thing while I was walking around.

Having been at my office for 10-plus years, I get a ridiculous amount of vacation to burn off every year (four weeks) — and this summer, I have to take it before our staff goes down in number. (One of my fellow page designers is leaving at the end of the month.)

So I’m off work for two whole weeks and the Boyfriend is out of town. He took his kids to California to see where he grew up.

What’s a pre-published author to do with all that free time? Write, of course.

One day, I poured out 3,500 words of my WIP (the one connected to “Beauty and the Ballplayer.”) Another day saw a word count of 2,ooo. The other two days were 800 and 1,100 — and that’s with breaks for movies. (Being a comedy fan, I went to see “Bad Teacher” one night and “Friends with Benefits” another afternoon.)

Even today, with grocery shopping and softball practice, I’ve written about 700 words — and reached a turning point. In fact, I’m going to get back to it now. See you on the other side … hopefully with a fully finished first draft.

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