It’s day 16 of the monthly sprint, and I’ve just finished a long stint at the keyboard of 2111 words. My arms are aching a little and my head is getting fuzzy.
I’m still on track. In fact, I think I’m slightly ahead at the moment.
This is the sticky middle of the month. We’ve had the start, full of energy and enthusiasm, as we surge into a new novel full of promise and wonder. The end of the month is likewise filled with power and effort as we channel everything we can into a last desperate surge for the goal. So what if you’re five thousand words short on the last day? Shut the door, drown out the kids/pets/spouse with some loud music and just blitz it! But the middle…?
It’s very tempting to slack off now. That initial glow has gone, and now we’re left with a plot that’s developed more holes than a ripe cheese and the weather’s gone to hell. It’s cold and dark and probably raining. There’s a series to binge on Netflix or a whole back catalogue of games on Steam to play. Meh, writing can wait…
This is the point when we need to push ourselves. To keep going.
I’m not giving up.