I whine a lot about needing to get a life. For the first time it's actually come home to me that this is more of a genuine need than just feeling like I Should Be Doing Other Things. It's also about the fact that I tend to behave, when writing a book, as if nothing else is important. This results in a few days of gung-ho writing and then the words stop and I don't know why and I sit there glowering at the computer and struggling through a few hundred or couple thousand words and not enjoying myself at all while I wonder what the hell's wrong with me. But I don't let up, because hey, deadlines, and it gets progressively worse until I finally go *do* something else (*anything* else) and then I get up the next day and write 5200 words standing on my head. Which is what happened today, after a perfectly lousy day yesterday and a slightly less lousy one the day before and a not especially good one the day before that.
It's very easy for me to extend my stop-writing time, if I haven't hit my wordcount. That allows me to screw around when I should be writing, because hey, who really cares if I don't get the words done by 2, since there's nothing actually stopping me from staying at the computer until 5?
Well, *I* need to care. Staying at the computer until 5, when I've started at 7am, is insane. It also doesn't make me *any* more productive, although it does make me increasingly crabby. I need to impose a 2pm quit time, which means it's critically important I find something else to do--preferably out of the house to break me away from the computer entirely--by oh, say, 2:30pm several days a week. I would be happiest with myself if I went to the gym, but the only one worth going to is the Mardyke Arena in Cork, and I don't know if I'd do that. Anyway, I have to think about what exactly I'll do, but I will be a much happier person and writer if I turn the computer off at 2pm.
On a totally non-writing front, the people next door, who have spent the summer so far putting in a *lovely* conservatory and a largish brick deck and a swatch of green grass and another wooden deck with a storage unit on it, are in fact selling their house. I really, really like their
I have to take a break from GG, because my internal monologue is starting to sound like the show. This is amusing, but not so good when I'm trying to write a book. One of the characters started sounding like Emily Gilmore. Gah.
Hey, lithera: Rogue did use this line in the Ultimate X-Men universe! I can't decide if I'm relieved somebody did it or disappointed that I didn't get there first (at least as far as actual publication was concerned :)). I still don't think they've used it in the 'real' universe, though.
miles to Isengard: 173.5
ytd wordcount: 226,100