Word count for the day: at least two thousand, probably more. I didn’t thinking to check where I started, and there was so much editing work involved today I’m not sure how much was from new scenes and how much was just tightening here and fleshing out there. It feels good, though, even though I’ve probably had enough lattes in the past two days to power an entire midnight shift.
There’s something about this time of year that really wakes me up again. I forget, in the depths of winter (even now that I’m in a substantially warmer climate) how much of my lethargy has to do with the time of year. I forget until spring comes again and suddenly I have trouble sitting still. If it were up to me I’d do away with winter and summer entirely, and my life would be an endless string of spring and fall.
There are some days when I feel like what I really need to do is make a list of Practical Advice for Living. On this list would be such things as ‘buy toilet paper before you run out’, ‘wear a warmer jacket when it’s cold’ and ‘don’t watch Supernatural before bed’. I’ve managed to violate all three of these in the past week or so, most memorably (re-)watching two episodes of Supernatural last night before going to bed and having the unsettling dreams to show for it.
Yesterday was a complete wash on the writing front, but at least I entertained the clientele of Urbana with an animated phone call. (I exaggerate; I promise I didn’t make a spectacle of myself. But I did do what I normally don’t and took a – very urgent – call.) Today, however, was productive, despite the fact that Second Cup is no longer serving Belgian chocolate orange lattes. (I cannot express the sheer bliss of these lattes; maybe they’ll still make them special.) At least five hundred words on two stories, plus a bit of administrative work I needed to get done. And, more importantly, I managed to finally rewrite the beginning of a story I’ve long been picking at in a way that I think sets the right tone for what’s to come. Sometimes writing two paragraphs of really good stuff is more productive than two pages of work that you’re less than enthused about.
Today’s writing round-up: about five hundred words, spread across three different stories. Not terrific, but not nothing. I’ll take it, anyway. I’m happier with the batch of revision notes I worked up for a very old novel which in its current state is basically a lot of flabby writing around a good idea. I might actually be able to salvage the beast yet.
Is it just me, or are zombies the New Big Thing right now? Or does the fact that I’m noticing them crop up everywhere mean they’re already the Old Big Thing?