So it is 10 p.m. at night the day after Christmas and I am working on Secret Novel because Secret Novel is due January 1st to Editor Mixtape. Lover is out for a few days, traveling intrepidly with my father and brother, and so I am being forced to write at night while Things 1 & 2 hibernate.
Secret Novel is novel-of-my-heart and delightfully dear to me and the best thing I've ever written. Secret Novel, however, is trying to kill me. Allow me to explain why. You may laugh at me, now, as you discover that I make little word count meters for myself and fill them in as I write more words. What can I say? You take motivation where you can get it.
However, this is the word count meter I made for Secret Novel.
As you can see, I have now come to the end of the word count meter.
But not to the end of Secret Novel.
These are my problems.
Also, do you guys think it's unhygienic to fish a tea bag out of a tea cup with a spoon? I couldn't be bothered to get up to get a spoon. I was killing someone in my manuscript and it just seemed like a lot of trouble to go to when I had a pen right there.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
In Which Secret Novel Laughs In the Face of Maggie's Distress
how I write|life|secret novel|