Monday, June 12, 2006

I don't know why I bother

Writing in the mornings, that is.

My apologies in advance for posting about word counts again. At the moment it's about the most interesting thing that happens to me during the day, since it is the only thing that happens to me during the day.*

A normal day, like today, sees me sitting at my desk (new desk!) at around half past eight. And there I will stay until around one, with occasional breaks to fill up the tea mug or empty its consequences. On a good day, by lunchtime, I might have 1000 words to show for the numb bum. Today, as it happened, I only managed 712, but I can blame that on the Horse Doctor, who came home demanding lunch at 12. Normally she takes a packed lunch to work, but today she had to get her hands dirty in the sheep sheds, so to speak, and so was working on farm staff time. Cinio is always taken a midday.

So I didn't get much done this morning. I didn't get much done in the afternoon either, stupidly deciding to go for a run around about half past two. By the time this was done, my lungs had healed, I had showered and taken the dachshund for his walk, it was time to cook supper. I didn't get back to the keys until about half past eight, by coincidence twelve hours after I'd first started. And still only a thousand words done.

Now it's half eleven and I've finished the chapter, topping out at 3700 words for the day. Helped in no small part by the couple of glasses of chardonnay that miraculously appeared on my desk as I typed (normally alcohol's a no-no on a school night, but today was a crap day for the Horse Doctor, so the rule got bent a little.)

This pattern is not an aberration. I seem to be able to write vast quantities in the evening but very little during the day. It's very frustrating. If I could match this evening's progress at other times, I'd have this novel done by the end of the month. But for some reason my brain doesn't want to co-operate until after supper.

Perhaps it's those pesky little white blood cells. They don't amount to much until the sun's started it's downward spiral towards the horizon. I am obviously a night person and I shouldn't fight my true nature.

I just wish someone would tell the little man in my head who keeps waking me up at dawn.

*If you don't count the truck driver I ran past who had stopped in a lay-by to pee against his wheels. And that wasn't so much interesting as unpleasant.


Blogger Gabriele C. said...

Now, that's an unusual way to de-rust the rims.

June 13, 2006 10:35 pm  

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