I’m having the best problems to have for a writer which is that I am so excited about my new writing projects that I can’t wait to get home and dive into them. I am making notes, but I need to plan these projects out from start to finish. Without planning, I begin to randomly write the wettest most exciting scenes rattling around in my head in no particular order, but it’s good because I’m getting going. The beginning of a project is fun because you aren’t at the heavy lifting. It’s like falling in love. It’s all champagne and chilled strawberries with cream and you look good when you wake up in the morning, and you smell good. That’s how it feels: Perfect. But then you get down in the mud of writing, and sketch out the whole book and the work begins. But, I’m happy to be into this wild place. Tomorrow when I go home to Los Angeles I am going to have strawberries and cream and champagne for breakfast. Why not?