Only because today was a shit of a day, and I didn’t get a chance to write until I got home. Somehow I managed to get 1,000 or so words written before Shortland Street. Because of that, I’m still ahead by a couple of hundred words. Not a totally valiant effort, but hell, I’m still ahead, so all’s fair.
Days like this come in Nanowrimo, and we have to beware of them. At some part of the day, I pretty much encountered every possible problem, from hating the plot, doubting my own ability, wondering if I should chuck in both writing and AP. But I figured, by the time I got home, that all things considered, now matter what happened I still had Nanowrimo to write, so I had to forge on, even if I wasn’t going to do anything with the output.
A sneaky solution? Blow something up. Or kill one of the characters. Serious. I never thought I’d actually use this solution, but I’m gonna. Now I just have to get around to writing it. Tomorrow. Yes. Tomorrow, I’m gonna blow something up. That’ll be my treat for writing tomorrow.
It’s cheap, but it works. Now I’m going to go read my pep-talk from Jasper Fford. Check your inboxes, people.