Argh. I was off to a very strong start, even ahead of my daily targets at first, but then life got in the way (in the form of continuing freelance work and a parental visit that consumed precious evening hours), and as a consequence I’m now about 2,000 words behind where I should be for today. I’m going to try my damnedest to reach 10,000 before I go to bed tonight, which will mean I only (only!) need to write a little over 3,000 words tomorrow. Ugh! I’m also getting a little tired of my storyline, so I need to shift gears a bit. How, I don’t know, but I’m hoping something will just sort of flow from my fingers tomorrow.

As Bethie points out in the comments in the post below, this whole quantity over quality thing is proving very, very difficult for me. I am, have always been, a compulsive self-editor. I simply can’t keep writing if I know there’s a glaring error on the page, or if I know I just used the same adjective or phrase within the past few paragraphs. It makes me crazy. I scroll back up constantly to fix tiny things, which is stupid, since nobody will ever read this “book” anyway. It’s simply not sustainable.

I think I need to fix myself a drink. Maybe a black Russian will loosen my uptight little paws and allow me to let the words fall as they may.

UPDATE: Yes! Alcohol does work! One small cocktail, and 1,100 words flew onto the virtual page. Fitzgerald and Hemingway were really on to something. Now, all I need is a whole bunch of amphetamines, a la Kerouac, and I’ll be a literary superstar in no time.

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