Turn the page
Arm and arm, the hands reach the distance. And with each new length, elbows expand and contrast, over and over. Together, the joints of the first day show themselves as pillars, showing ways around the hard covers that bind definitions down to tongue and cheek.
What is written as the plot thickens isn’t critical enough to stall for or stop at. Gripping details of the story doesn’t have to be all that matters. Flip and skim, poke and recite, do what feels good in the moment. There’s always a minute worth something, even beyond fleeting feelings flowing from formats and old chapters turned in during the next day.
Do what can be done, then do it again. It is all progress when it comes to personal accolades.