The goal is to write just 300 words per day. That seems like so little. Just 300. What could be the problem?
So I sit down at the keyboard and start tapping away. Then my low-level headache niggles at the back of my head, and the noise of the saws running at the construction site next door intrude.
The goddam saws, and who knows what. It sounds like they are rolling boulders down a staircase that they first covered with galvanized sheet. The noise has been going on for months and promises to go on for many more months as they completely rebuild the hotel behind my house.
So they work and work, and I use it as an excuse to not work. But I really know I’m just reluctant to re-engage with the book I started last year. Was it only last year?
I like the premise, and the period, and the characters, but seem unwilling to dive back in.
And today I set the goal of putting down 300 words in the time between when I started and when I am supposed to head to lunch with a friend. Cindy will understand. She will also ask me if I have been writing and I will squirm away from the question like I do when I’m trying to avoid being the one that has to clean up the dog vomit on the carpet. Like I didn’t see it lying there before Gretchen saw it.
So there you go. I’ve got 255 words on the page and it’s only a little past 11am, and I still have time to finish this commitment up. That was a long word, should be worth more than 1 word.
11 more to go. I guess it is time to sign off.