Well, as you can see, I failed miserably this month, even though my goal was a paltry 25,000 words instead of 50,000. As I write this, Beverely has soared across the finish line, and I'm sure Jax will cross it by midnight.
You ladies ROCK!
In my defense, that bout with bronchitis set me back. Also, I'd like to point out that I wrote an additional 4,000 words on a story for True Romance that I didn't include in the total. Sadly, though, I don't ROCK, I stutter-step. HA, kinda the way I dance (blogreader Joe is nodding is head right now).
Meanwhile, I read through my WIP last night--approximately 50 pages. I wasn't as thrilled as I'd thought I'd be.
(We interrupt this blog to report the shuttle just went over!!! BAM!! BAM!!!)
Anyway, sometimes novels take on a life of their own. Or maybe, I'm in the wrong mood to be writing, cuz...geesh...this one's so friggin' serious. Too dramatic for my taste. I need to go back and find a way to inject the yucks. The...I dunno...insouciance...is that the right word?