Sunday I took the kids to the coffee shop and we started going through the workbook over donuts.
The first section deals with one's Inner Editor. You know who that is... that little guy who keeps nitpicking, keeping you from starting or finishing a story. While writing a novel this month, we're told to totally ignore our Inner Editor.
I don't know about the adults, but the kids workbook asks them to draw a picture of their Inner Editor. My 8-year-old daughter's Inner Editor looked happy, hip and cool. Not much of a conflict for her. My ten-year-old son's Inner Editor looked a little dark and wore suspicious-looking sunglasses.
Meanwhile, I thought I'd scribble out my own Inner Editor on a napkin. I left it at the coffee shop but redrew it for my wife later that evening. This, folks, is my Inner Editor. And I'm being extremely generous in this graphic depiction:
He is a close relative of my Inner Art Director.
Obviously, I have some issues