I wrote over 4,000 words today for the first time in almost a month, I think. Pains me to write that, but it’s true. And because it’s true, we let go of the pain and move on.
This draft will be finished. Soon. Rewrites after that, of course, but it will be another major step forward.
I get why people always think writers are slagging off, sitting and staring at their computer screens, never getting work done, and always working on their “novel.” I get it. I feel like I’m *living* it right now…except for the staring at my computer screen part. When I sit down and write, I actually DO write. In fact, I’ve written enough words over the past year for literally four novels. They just haven’t been the right words. Not yet.
I was a professional today. I had a goal, and I met it. I’m going to do the same thing tomorrow (to a lesser extent, given that I have a number of “extracurriculars” to attend to), and then the next day. Hopefully, I’ll get myself into a new rhythm, and ride that wave till “words complete,” which is the preferred indie author way to say “done.”
I can’t wait to be done. That’s part of the problem if we’re being honest. It’s taken me four novels worth of words to realize that I’d gotten ahead of myself. I’d focused on techniques and practices and goals that were two or three steps ahead of where I actually was/am. That’s part of my personality; an aspect of myself I need to keep in check. It pushes me forward, but it also overextends me and holds me back, at times.
Today was a day of family, too. I spoke with my brother, and my parents. Thought of my other brother, who lives far away. We all lost Russell today, thirteen years ago. THIRTEEN. That’s…hard to fathom. Impossible. Everything about this day thirteen years ago is impossible to fathom. Everything.
But, I miss him. I love my family, and I felt so grateful to speak with them today. To know that they were healthy, and while sad today, happy in life. We’ve persevered. All of us.
Good night.