Thanksgiving. Who knew? Still, a pretty standard day around here except for football and great cooking smells emanating through the house as I write.
For the second day in a row after I set a new daily goal of 4,000 words, I’m gonna miss it. This one, though, I’ll kind’a forgive myself. Very difficult to concentrate on anything while part of my brain is thinking of the feast to come later.
Rolled out a little after 2. Same usual wake-up process of emails and cleaning up other small bits of stuff that don’t fit anywhere else (Facebook, LinkedIn, etc.). I probably easily write a couple of thousand words per day of nonfiction (Facebook, emails, etc.) but I don’t count that. I just bear it in mind to make me feel more accomplished than I actually am. (grin)
On my second cup of coffee I did a little more research back through the earlier Wes Crowley novels to be sure I had the right “bad guy” for this one. Named a few accomplices for him, made a few notes about their history, their acquaintances, and so forth. Then finally I wrote a session early today.
Took a break, then back for another early session of writing. Took another break and an early shower just to feel better. During all of this I’ve been herding cats, explaining patiently to them why they can’t go out yet (it was raining), then letting them out, letting them in, all that stuff.
Way back when I first started this novel series, Wes and Mac handed it to me out of a short story I’d written. I heard them talking with me just as plainly as I hear someone in my office talking to me.
I pretty much flashed through eight novels, but on the ninth book in the series I bogged down. Bad. Hopelessly mired.
But yesterday morning early, Wes sauntered into my office and sat down. He crossed his right ankle over his left knee, being careful not to scuff the front of my maple desk. He tipped his hat back a bit, then said, “Harvey, there ain’t no rush in ridin’ away from a life.”
That was a variation on a sentence from an earlier book. I don’t even remember which one. But it was exactly what I needed.
“I understand,” I said. “And thanks, Wes.”
He grinned, got up, and nodded at me. He said, “Well,” and then he walked out.
And I got hot on the keyboard.
Now today is Thanksgiving, so I can’t sit here and write quite as much as I’d like. Still, armed with what my friend Wes gave me, I wrote a really good opening yesterday.
Today, I managed three sessions. And I also know this thing will just continue to flow when I come back to it tomorrow morning early. So no worries on the fairly light day today.
Fiction Words: 3092
Writing of The Scent of Acacia (Book 9 in the Wes Crowley saga)
Day 1…… 3887 words. Total words to date…… 3887 words
Day 2…… 3092 words. Total words to date…… 6979 words
Total fiction words for the month……… 15451
Total fiction words for the year………… 589324