I’m backing and forthing with whether to novel or novella.
Content isn’t the issue, I’ve got words galore. But as I painfully carry on with the editing process, I’m wondering if I would like to chop chapters down so they slap a bit harder.
Don’t get me wrong, my book is bite-y as fuck, as is. I don’t want there to be too many tangents in it though. I like to fish for emotions from a reader using hard, sharp, short phrasing. Jumping around from topic to topic in this particular style creates a somewhat confining land that makes your head whip back and forth, line for line.
I think novella might be a better place to really punch with the style I’m 
working with at the moment. So I’ll probably spend the weekend cutting back pages.
In other news, a group of tourists bowed to Frankie during one of our walks today and started to speak to him in Thai. Although now and then someone would throw in an, “I love you! I love you!!”
After that, a woman sitting on the corner jangling a cup of change gave both of the puppies pats and talked about how beautiful they both are until we wished each other well and continued separate ways.
Whenever I consider living someplace else, I know that I’m just not ready to give some things up. Thus I am sitting tight. Especially until I finish this latest pile of writing I’ve done been on about.