Yesterday was the best writing day I’d had all week, and I managed a whopping thousand words. Good words, sure, but not nearly enough. I am really intent on getting my Rome novel done by the last day of October, so that I can start fresh on November 1st on my next novel (for the Tea Debacle, or, as it’s commonly known by the competitors, the Pete Tzinski Tea Relief Donation Drive). Unfortunately, I have a ways to go and less and less time to get here.
My meter, on the side (which is woefully accurate in its update) says 120,000. I have no idea if that’s accurate, though I suspect it’s closer than not.
I can blame the internet for only part of the problem writing. Mostly, that isn’t it. I’m just tired (which, in turn, makes me more inclined to be on the internet with my brain a-frazzle than sitting down trying to work out six thousand words a day).
My wife thinks it’s the weather, which is gray and bleak and wet and unending. I suppose that could be part of it (although as stated here before, I am such a big fan of weather).
My ideal that I’m trying to figure out how to do is to finish my Rome novel with three or four days left at the end of the month, so I can take those days and sleep and play video games and eat silly things and do nothing at all about writing. (Well…you know…maybe some. Because I can’t stop). We’ll see if I manage it.
This was a gloomy post. All it needs it a picture of Eeyore.
On a plus note, there’s a big fuzzy cat on my feet which means they are very warm, and he is very happy, and it’s hard to feel very gloomy at all about anything with a big fuzzy cat on your chilly feet.