Spent the night attending a play then unwinding at Five Guys. The fifteen year old Elf tagged along with my Mum & Dad while the newly unwrapped twelve year old Leprechaun enjoyed herself at a cast party. We discussed life and spirituality while consuming great quantities of french fries. I wonder what my Elf made of it all.
Didn't write much today. Spent the lion's share ticking, which is boring and not very fun, but thankfully the virus I was suffering from has run its course. It may have been several viruses. In fact, I may have been flash mobbed by day-glo toting viruses looking for a rave in my cerebrum. It certainly felt that way.
I did make great progress on my book, however. Not the sort of progress others have made in their mad, thousands of words, NaNoWriMo dash to December, but progress of the habit kind. Setting the challenge to write 50 WPD has helped me bump into my next obstacle: daily discipline.
50 words; such a simple task. I've written more than that in this post. However, getting in the fiction writing mode has been challenging. I only write when I am moved. This makes for passionate bursts of scintillating prose, but when writing is supposedly my intended life career, if I have no work ethic I might as well kiss good-bye any dreams of succeeding.
That is why 50 WPD is good training. There is a mental block between me and writing fiction—some deeply rooted, ADHD inspired hurdle. Once I sit down, I write more than 50 words, but for some reason I just can't sit down.
Too wiggly, I suppose.
I clear this hurdle, and I can take on the world. So I'm strapping my track shoes on tight and stretching for the big meet. I need this first draft finished by Thanksgiving if I want something submittable by my birthday on December 23rd.
Follow me on Twitter for my ADHD escapades at @SplinteredMind or my novel writing project over at @DouglasCootey. And if you're a glutton for punishment you can friend me on Facebook as well.