About a month or so ago, I started writing something new. An idea that came to me one day, and that I spent a solid few days thinking about while I did all my normal things. I’m still not 100% sure how it’s going to turn out, but it’s a fairy tale; last I checked, that could mean anything between happy-ever-after and everyone-dies. I tend towards happy endings, but we’ll see.
I love the frantic pace of NaNo during November. It’s a great way to get in the habit of writing every day. But… it’s easier to not work that way. I can write 50 words, 500, or 1500 in one day. In an hour. In a week. Today, after almost two weeks of occasional staring at the screen hopelessly, I wrote 1200+ words that I’m pretty fond of in the space of two and a half hours. It feels fantastic.
I’d keep writing tonight, but there’s a grumpy cat threatening to be bitey if I don’t pay attention to her Right Now.
And by bitey I mean More Grumpy. Because she doesn’t actually bite me.
