Yesterday was a particularly intense writing day. I added twelve pages (and edited multiple sections), shunning other activities to stay in the tube. Ran out of coffee; butt went completely numb. A friend later said, “I saw you at the coffee shop writing. You were so intense, I think you were scaring people. I sure as heck didn’t want to disturb you.”
Yes, twelve new pages are a lot for me to accomplish in one day. My sessions generally top out at five to six. More, though, after ‘finishing’ writing for the day, the muses continued feeding me pieces of story, scene, and characters. Getting in here today, words fill my pathways, ready to find the page, a fantastic feeling.
I’ll write today but not tomorrow (damn coffee shop is closed for some holiday, can you believe it?), and then resume Thursday. I thought, hopefully I won’t lose momentum, and then shrugged that off. Momentum comes and go. Long as I keep putting my ass in a chair and turning on the computer in front of me, progression will continue, not always as a deluge or a storm, but at least at a gentle trickle.
I started this project on November first. I’m at two hundred fifty pages (71,000 words). My goal is to limit it to a three-hundred page draft, and I think that’s within reach. Of course, I have to laugh at myself (and my muses), as sequels (and tangents) have leaped into my imagination stream.
Got my coffee. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.