Thud: Above

June 23, 2008 Progress Notes:

Above

Words today: 1000.
Words total: 53,000 MS Word, 63,000 SMF.

64,750 / 85,000 (76.2%)

Reason for stopping: Round number. And I'm screwing this scene up. I can feel it.
Liquid Refreshment: Water.
Munchies: Pizza.

Darling du Jour: The red abandons me like a shadow burning down.

Words Matthew Won't Admit to Knowing: N/A.
Mean Things: Violence. Destruction of one's self-image.
Research Roundup: N/A
Books in progress: John Crowley, The Solitudes.
The glamour: As reported previously!

---

I suppose if I have nothing better to do anymore besides look for jobs, I can try to finish this book this month. Well, not this calendar month. But this month as in within the next 28-31 days.

We will go on daily wordcount quotas as of...now.

Well, not now. Now I'm going to bed. But tomorrow.

Garden -- Late June

I probably should have done an update here weeks ago, but hey.

Here is the progress on the ( garden, Late June )

Having missed the boat on tomatoes from the seed, I am still looking around for fully-sprouted plants to carry home, but no luck on the casual places-I-go-anyways beat. There'll be some at St. Lawrence Market, though, and a trip will be made sometime this week.

Thud: Above

June 24, 2008 Progress Notes:

Above

Words today: 1500.
Words total: 54,500 MS Word, 66,500 SMF.

66,500 / 85,000 (78.2%)

Reason for stopping: Good stopping point, and I find myself abruptly out of gas. And my shoggoth might be ready to start enbreadifying.
Liquid Refreshment: Water.
Munchies: Avgolemono.

Darling du Jour: I broke her, he assents, finally, when the body goes weak and down on the floor and his own fists don't rise to fight no more. When he can't talk to disagree.

Words Matthew Won't Admit to Knowing: hurtful, harsh, absurd. He was on the fence about that last one, though.
Mean Things: Violence. Cutting both ways, actually, and I'm surprised I didn't clue to the kind he's taking earlier, because it's entirely set up in chapter one.
Research Roundup: N/A
Books in progress: John Crowley, The Solitudes.
The glamour: A good kind of at-home day: laundry, the starting of bread, garden work, tidying, and the slow chipping-away at my inboxes that one day will be complete.

---

That was the Bad Scene, except for a few dribs and drabs and connecting bits. I think I feel better now.

I am understanding why people who are full-time writers produce such vasty wordcount. Not just because they have to eat, mind, which is a good and worthy reason. But because there's not much else to do. I almost kept on for 2k tonight just because it's only 10pm, and I'm not sure what else to do with my evening given that I did most of the chores this afternoon. I'm sure I'll find something that wants my attention. There's laundry that could stand to be put away in the bedroom.

To work, then. Other work.