One of the pitfalls of being a writer on the Whole30 plan is that my head is filled with characters who…well…aren’t.
I’m writing a novel right now that takes place in an inn on the Oregon coast. That’s a really fun place to get to travel to for work, even if it’s only in my head. Today I’m working on a scene that takes place at a bachelorette party with “Night in Paris” as its theme. Doesn’t that sound dreamy?
As I was describing the décor—the dresser swathed in gold lame with pink, white, and gold helium balloons hovering over it; the bed heaped with gifts wrapped in various pastel shades; the streamers hanging from the brass light fixture—the bride picked up a French pastry from the buffet table and offered it to me.
I was so into the scene that I almost screamed at her, “You know I’m still on Whole30!”
I know. Writers are kind of crazy.
But I would rather walk without pain than eat an imaginary French pastry.
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