Since vowing last Thursday that I would finish the first draft of my dystopian science fiction novel by the end of the year — a ridiculous vow, considering all else I’m juggling on a daily basis — I’ve averaged just at the maximum end of what I need to average to get it finished.
In doing so, I’ve slammed out a couple of chapters, wrote my way through a three-chapter action set piece, and figured out a plot puzzle that had been vexing me. Wrote myself into a corner while I was at it, but I’m sure that will work itself out one way or another. I just have to keep writing and “discover” what happens.
But it’s only been four days. That’s but a drop in the bucket.
Hopefully my pace should pick up, now that my re-watching of Deadwood is complete. (Watched the final episode of season 3 on Saturday.) It had better. I need to be pounding on the keys if I want to meet my goal and still keep up with other projects.