Today has been a very all over the place to hell and gone sort of day. let me tell you. It seems like I’ve been scrambling with all sorts of crap since waking up this morning, and now that it’s growing closer to noon, it seems the bullshit is slowing down.
Just a little, it is, but it’s better than what I had about two hours ago.
Yesterday was a little like this. Morning, morning, morning–what am I doing? Not a hell of a lot. It seemed as if I truly didn’t get my butt in gear until about noon, and by then I had to run off and take care of business, as the saying goes. Then the afternoon came along and I was all set to start writing–
Then the headhunters called.
I’m in the process of seeking new employment, and I have been getting the most screwed up headhunters (aka job recruiters, for those who haven’t met these usually wonderful people) in the world. One guy demanded I give him a copy of my hand written signature before he’d submit my resume to a client, and I needed to politely remind this goof that a signature is a controlled document, that it could be used for all sort of chicanery in the wrong hands, and he was damned if he thought I was going to snap a photo of mine with my mobile and send it to him.
In short, eat it, sucker. In the end he sent the resume in, because he knew I wasn’t about to hand over this stuff, and if he has a warm body to promote, it means he might make enough money to eat. And we all like to eat . . .
I did get to the writing last night, however, sometime around eight PM, to be exact. I needed to finish a scene, then move on to another scene. Slow going there, because while I was writing I was also engaged in a discussion about Scrivener–one that sorta involved another person partaking in a bit of trolling, but never the mind, that’s the Internet–and if there’s one thing I love, it’s talking about Scrivener.
I also love writing, and I kept plugging. I wrote seven hundred words for one scene, and needed to do more. I did another six hundred and fifty, and knew more was required. Then another six hundred and fifty were written, and three scenes completed, and all was good.
The evening finished with 1,996 words written, just a hair short of the two thousand I was hoping for, but this was enough to push the story over the twenty thousand words limit and putting it at two-thirds finished. Which it isn’t, but I already knew that.
I may be wrong there. I know what remains, and if I do over-shoot thirty thousand words–and I stress the word “If” because limits are never hard–it won’t be by much. I have a couple of big scenes coming up, but I don’t see anything rolling into the four, five thousand word range for any single chapter.
Never say never, though. I always seem to surprise, or disappoint, myself.
Depends on the time of day, don’t you know?