I can hardly believe this, but beyond my wildest expectations I have been able (for the first four days anyway) to actually crank out the requisite number of words per day to stay on track for finishing by November 30 with a truly dreadful novel. But that’s not the point. The Point is, I have found that I am able to sit down and write whenever I choose. I used to aspire to 500 words a day. What a weenie. I turned out better than 1600 last night in the span of about an hour and a half. Why could I never do this before??? I’m starting to believe those pooh-poohers who say there’s no such thing as writer’s block.
Yes, I will admit, most of what I’ve written is like Vogon poetry, it will make you want to chew your limbs off. But it’s SOMETHING. I was getting a little panicky, thinking the only way I was going to pull this off was to try to write surreptitiously at work throughout the day. Now I know I can go home at night and get my word count. Granted, nothing is getting done around the house. But I’m getting laundry done (ok, so it’s not folded and put away, but the cats don’t care. They would no doubt prefer for me to leave piles of fluffy laundry laying around for them to snooze on), and the essentials.
Now, let’s just see if I can sustain it for another 25 days.