Feeling like a dodo . . .

Do I have the time?

I’m scribbling everywhere I go and typing into the night, slapping  promise patches over plotholes:  Plant this in chapter three.  Did you use this already?  Check airline regs.  Go back and break her mirror.

I’ve written more in the last two weeks than I have in the previous two months.

It seems to be working—the words are there, thrumming in the background when I drive or work or blog.*

But I have four days to get to the end.**   And that’s not ninety-six hours of solid writing time—it’s  more like twenty-two.

This whole experiment could be another dreaded learning experience:  self-imposed deadlines are not to be shared.

But even if I have to come back Saturday and say, hey, not quite, I’ll be a lot closer to finished than I was.

Right?

Right.

But I don’t want to.

Butt in chair.  Rear in gear.

Onward.

___

*Blogging doesn’t seem to slow me down—it takes time, but I have to come up for air once in a while.  It’s a nice breather and sometimes working on something completely different knocks something loose in my WIP.  ‘Sides, I’d miss you guys.

**Though I wrote most of the end during the baseball game Sunday.  Got a fantastic sunburn, too —  I sunscreened everyone else, and then Sunny fell down and I forgot that I work inside all day and will sizzle in the sun, brunette or no.  Janie needed my hat, so the top of my head is tender and my nose resembles a strawberry.  Thank heavens for aloe in a pump bottle.

_____

Wondermark is a product of the genius that is David Malki !

6 thoughts on “Feeling like a dodo . . .

  1. Go Go Go! Go Dog Go!

    I cannot believe all that you’ve been able to get done between games, and work, and that whole mother thing, and the whole wife thing, and a billion other things.

    Don’t respond to this, just write, write, write. I can believe you’re that close. I’ve read you. Rock on!

  2. Thanks for all the support,everybody!

    I’m writing, I’m rowing, I’m truckin’, I’m smokin’ (cough,hack,cough).

    I’m taking the next two days off, I’ve warned the family, and I’m going under starting . . . now. Crossed fingers—or toes, if you’re typing—will be much appreciated!

    Hope to surface sometime tomorrow for a breather post.

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