September wordcount

Well! That was a really interesting month, and a much more productive one than I’ve had in a while.

Things didn’t end too well, as you can see in the last few days of the month, with the 30th consisting of a busy day with the sproglet and then a surprise bottle of bubbly that Steve brought home. Seeing as surprise bottles of bubbly are a rarity in our house I wasn’t about to start looking that gift horse in the mouth. It was good fun, and hey, I sneaked in there past the hoped-for minimum goal, even with five days of missed writing.

So how are things looking? The grand total for September was 23,246 words, and I’m rather keen to try and beat that this month. That said, it’s currently school holidays, and though the wee one’s not old enough for school, she’s not going to playcentre and I’m not getting my two or three drop-offs each week, which makes a mental difference for me. We’re also going to head to stay with my parents for five days or so, and though I’m taking my laptop, it’s not realistic to think I am going to be able to consistently get the words in while we’re there.

The manuscript is at 37,407 words though, and I’m pretty happy with that, as it’s officially in the “middle stage” as opposed to the “I’m writing a novel, really,” early bits. It’s feeling like there is a bit of weight and momentum behind it now, so much so that I feel relatively ok about what’s going to amount to a whole week missing in my writing schedule.

That said, it feels good to have a brain-break. I’m sure I’ve mentioned earlier that I plan a bit and pants a bit, and most days of writing usually involve a bit of dread when I sit down at the keyboard. You know: “oh god, what am I going to pull out of my arse today?”

Not exactly out of my arse. But you know what I mean. If I’m lucky I might be able to drum up a few new insights while I’m holidaying (and sharing a bed with the sproglet, eep!). Then again, I might be lucky to get any sleep and any sort of a break and the next five or so days might just consist of semi-vegetating in front of Dad’s golf on TV.

But no pressure. I have to keep reminding myself that I’m a mum, with a small person, who is still managing to do some other work. Any forward momentum is to be celebrated.

Er…not that I have to remind myself that I’m a mum. Oh dear. I must be tired.

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