Did I?
I guess
The premise laid out here 168ish weeks ago was that if I could write 25 words a day, I could write a novel someday. I’d need to write more than 25 words to do it in this lifetime, of course, and they’d have to be the right words in the right order etc etc, but the trick was to set the bar approachably low and soar over it most days.
I’ve spent a lot of days and weeks only glancing at the bar lately. Not much approaching, less soaring. When I wrote a couple of sentences this week I thought, yeah, I haven’t given up. This technically counts by my own rules. But it still felt lame.
I’d like to give more of myself to writing but I don’t have a lot to give right now. Maybe the bright side is that if I do finally finish this novel after my office job and softball playing and coaching and parenting of four kids under 10 and work travel and ailing family member and blah blah does slow down, my future publisher’s marketing team can sell me as a breakout author at age 96.
Week 167: Seasoned
Some everyday: No
Words: Maybe 100ish
See you next week.