I was dutifully writing at lunch today, a nicely cathartic little scene in which I get to take a few jabs at the people who annoyed me throughout high school. Just now, someone wandered out of the conference room across from my office and asked directions to the ladies’ room – and she’s a dead ringer for the leader of the rich bitch squad at my school.
Now I’m itching to write one of my back-burner stories. (It’s about a high school reunion.) I’m hearing the voice of the doomed X-Wing pilot in my head – “Stay on target…. stay on target!”
