I have to admit that I think on Monday mornings, I'm glad I work afternoon turn. I did sleep in and need to add some words to my novel. I wrote over four thousand yesterday. I planned to write more, at least five thousand, but as I reposted yesterday, I had the gut problem.
As predicted, storms and high winds blew through the area at seven in the evening. I thought of the cutest author, Snoopy, typing, "It was a dark and stormy night." My story, though, was following a hot and humid day at the lake. A storm did build and trapped them in a mini van, but a summer shower soon blew over. In a drought, they needed a steady drizzle for days.
Writing should be like that, a steady drizzle for days, not a windy torrent of words. So as I slept in and seem to take a while to wake, and soon need to get ready for work, today is a drizzle. I can't skip a day, though, with the novel. I am behind, but as the encouraging word today is we're into the plot, now, introductions are fairly over and the writing flows better in week three.
So I'm writing for a half hour, now and maybe a half hour when I get home this evening to enable that word count to creep up the graph. I'm also glad I have a husband who pretends very well to understand the writing I need to do. I am blessed.
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