Managed over 1k words for the past two days, despite raging migraines. Very exciting. I watched my writing process for a novel in miniature yesterday: opened the chapter, reread what I’d written the previous day, and watched half of it crumble away into “not how it’s supposed to go” land.
There is no wasted writing. I now know one way for sure that chapter wasn’t supposed to happen. Is this what we tell ourselves in order to keep writing without going (too) nuts? “It’s all practice, it all counts!” Practice, I guess, in letting ourselves be wrong, in being humble enough to keep serving the story and following it, despite its sidetracks and dead-ends.
I go to bed thinking about this project. I wake up thinking about it. I wish I was able to dream about it on command. I keep writing it because I want to read the darn thing and no one else will write it!
I still owe (to whom, exactly?) a number of reviews. This weekend (YAY FRIDAY!!!) I’m roasting chicken, making a Reuben pie, and I may very well tackle that sock…
What are your plans for the weekend?