My glorious plan to get ahead on my word count backfired at an epic level. Instead of getting ahead, I fell behind, felt miserable, and generally made my life less fun. To top things off, we’re having horse issues again. It’s one of those “at any moment he may get better or he may keel over, we’ll keep you posted” situations, which leads to lots of pointless, passive worry and leads not so much to lots of writing. It’s better when there is something I can actually do; even if it takes up my time, at least I’m not just sitting around.
I’m almost back on track and I want to get at least a little extra done. But it looks like I’ll be needing the entire 30 days to get this done. Fun, fun. At least I seem to have gotten over my little bout of writer’s block. I had a few critical scenes that I was too stressed about perfecting to actually write in the first place. That was the one good thing that came from last night.
I fell asleep sitting in my office chair this afternoon. When December 1st arrives, I will be splitting my days between the eating of holiday foods, reading astonishing quantities of other people’s fiction, and sleeping. Lots and lots of sleeping.