Approximately half the known world, or at least half my known world, will be in New York this weekend for Comic Con, and I am *so* envious. Sadly, though, we didn’t win the lottery yesterday, so we’re not jet-setting off the the Big Apple. Maybe next year…
I guess I got up too early. I was exhausted before I did anything, and then the cats sat on me when I sat down to write, and they emitted sleep rays, and I succumbed. Ted got up before I’d entirely fallen asleep, and suggested I go to a cafe and write longhand, which idea I followed through on, because I clearly needed something to shake myself up a little, not to mention to keep myself awake. I got about five pages written, then met Ted for lunch and followed it up with glasses-shopping with Kate, then went to the library to try to work some more.
The library, it turns out, is not a good place for me to go to work. There are all of these *books* there, and even if I’m not especially inclined to read them right now, they’re not very well alphabetized. *twitch* *twitch* *twitch* I got another page and a very little done, and was horribly bored with the story, so slogged toward home, hoping the walk might shake an idea or two loose. It did, so I got another page done and know where to pick up tomorrow. I’ll probably type it tomorrow and see if I can’t just charge on from there.
ytd wordcount: 165,100
miles to Minas Tirith: 277.4