I woke up this morning and figured out what the book is going to be about. Not the plot, because I more or less knew the plot already. What I hadn’t figured out was the style and conceit of it all. But once I knew what was going on, it was somewhat easier to get the words out.
Although that may be the flu shot. ‘Flu-like symptoms?’ Oh, my, yes. I don’t know whether to crash for a day, or go back tomorrow for another dose.
1600 words seems to be more or less how much I can do right now without an insurmountable struggle. It’s all clunky and contrived, of course; and I’ve decided to embrace the No Real Research rule and punch it up to eleven. But, to paraphrase what a guy once said in Stephen King’s book It: it may end up being a crappy novel, but hopefully it’ll no longer be an unfinished crappy novel. Everybody should have one of those in his or her files.
I know that it’s supposed to be 1633, or something like that? But it’s the first day, and considering that I had to deal with day-after-Halloween sugar crashes, Date Night, and what was almost a child medical emergency, I think that 1,600 words is very credible. Hopefully I’ll be able to get an even better rhythm flowing as I go.
Guess we’ll see.
PS: Alas, I suspect that other creative work will suffer this month. Sorry about that: I’ll try to glean more stuff from my archives. But, again, I’m actually trying to write a novel, here.