A long day of frustration today. All interruptions carefully timed to provide maximum annoyance.
My total for the day is 30,907 words, so about 1700 done today. That’s pretty good for this summer, sigh. The frustrating thing is 1300 of those words happened in the, I’m guessing, twelve hours of a typical workday. I say typical because it was daytime working hours. Normally I wouldn’t have been there for twelve hours not doing much of anything else, but I’m stubborn. The more I got interrupted, the more determined I was to actually accomplish something.
So. I wrote, and wrote, and grumbled at the dog and the cats and the bird and the child and the neighbor. I didn’t grumble at Bly, she spent most of the day in her room. Hmm, wonder why? *rolls eyes* Then I made dinner. Started it at 1900, because I was still trying to write.
After dinner I put Hope to bed and the cats out and the dog went to sleep on Hope’s bed and Bly came out and we sat on the porch and talked a bit and I came in and wrote four hundred words in less than an hour. Just think if I’d been able to accomplish that for five or six of my twelve hour stint.
Gotta get published. Gotta get published. Gotta earn the right to stay home and write while Hope is in school. If I can just get there, I know I can write enough to support us, and still have time to talk to my child and cook dinner and maybe even read a damned book.
I used to read books.