Did I mention that this one could also be a novel?
Something I know that I have written is how much easier this blog is to write than my book is. I think it's still that mental crossing guard I've got up there, the one who thinks its job is to protect me from any and all risk. If I get too close to making an arse of myself, it's there to say, "Uh, you probably shouldn't snort that, especially if it's trying to get away." But it is too good at its job, and is often there saying, "No, no, you shouldn't try that. You might not like it. What will others think? How will you live with yourself if it doesn't work out? Think of how comfortable you are doing nothing. Yes, that's where you belong. Get fatter. Get more complacent. You are exactly where you are safe and toasty-warm."
That inner crossing guard is a bit of a taint. And I wonder if it is eager to provide me with distractions so that I don't have to write my novel and find out that it's not good, that I'm not a great writer, that all that work was for . . . well, not very much. Or it could just know me so well, that it's sure I'll give up halfway through, and so it doesn't want me to even try, since it's worse to get a drink thrown in your face than it is to dance alone.
I brought this up in a previous post**, but the other day, I really made it a point to focus on writing. I knew this thing was overdue, and each day not working on my Novel in 90 Days was going to make the NIND all the harder to accomplish, so I spent nearly my entire day off typing away on my laptop. I took it to the park with me (until the battery died), then brought it home and plugged it in again, and as soon as it had juice in it, I went in the backyard and wrote some more. Then, I took my notebook with me to my nephew's baseball game, and wrote another page or two there.
Today, I didn't have nearly the free time (and even some of that I squandered), but I took the laptop to the park and did it again. I am closing in on the end of this thing, and I feel like I can have it all finished with one more trip to the park or backyard. In fact, tonight, right before I started typing this, I went outside, even though it's past one am, and fired up the laptop to write. It then said it had to install a bunch of updates before it could proceed, so I came in here and did this instead. But I assure you that, by this time next week, I will be done with my story.
Which means that, by the time you read these words, I will have been done with "Into the Furnace" for a while now. With the writing, anyway. The typing (and inevitable rewriting) will be much longer in coming.
As far as the word count goes, nothing has changed:
But that is due to me being distracted and not even once typing up my scribblings, despite having the notebook open and ready to go.
Since then, I have started on a new audiobook project, finished another Rish Outcast, and written another short story. I actually took my laptop to work, as Big suggested I do, and managed to be a little more efficient with my writing, since it's typed rather than pen-written, and those words can be instantly counted. On my actual novel--which as of this writing I would rather eat nightcrawlers than have to work on--I will try to do the laptop thing as much as possible.
Rish Outfield, Running In Place
*Sadly, being published into July. I need to learn to stick with things.
**But it was a tiny addition at the bottom of the screen when I was making excuses for not increasing my word count, so scream, Blacula, scream.
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