Writing began this week, and it utterly failed to go according to plan. Social obligations, work, and other—more immediately pressing—writing all got well in the way of things, and I finished my first six days more than two thousand words behind my set goal. It is not, perhaps, the most auspicious start.
For all that, though, I’m proud of what I got done this week. It’s a little busy, and there are some rough patches, but I got together three and a half thousand words that are pretty damn good for a first draft. It’s a foundation laid out in an experimental stage of the writing period, and I think that it’s a good one.
Moments I wasn’t writing but wished that I was: Almost all of them.