I wrote approximately 1800 words today. What does that mean?
1800 Words = 7 1/4 pages of text
So how did I do it? Well, the cats and I hid out in my office today. Surrounded by our fiction library, I put my earphones in and cranked up Position Music’s Orchestral Series Volume 3 by Magnus Christensen and Ryan Franks. My iTunes says it’s classical music, but this is bold, bad, rockin’ classical with edge. It was just what I needed today to get into Sam’s head.
I think I mentioned in yesterday’s blog that I have figured out how to make the word tracking work in my writing software. Because of that, I also know that to date I have written 97,993 words, which is the equivalent of a 257 page book. The left-brain in me is VERY happy, and to keep it that way, I periodically check the project and target statistics to see where I’m at.
So here’s to 1800 words. Especially since they were 1800 words that flowed into sentences and story that I like. Here’s a taste of it:
Sam got up from the table and left the room to get the diary out of her backpack. When she returned, she was holding a bright pink notebook with a unicorn on it.
“The girl’s diary?”
“Yeah.” She sat down with the diary and opened it, flipping the pages without seeing them. “She was fairly consistent about writing in here every couple of days. According to her diary entries, she started going to the club a couple of months ago, long before she mentioned it to Caitlyn. As for how she got the money for the cover charge to go a couple of times a week, I imagine that’s what the pot and stolen items were for.
“There was some sort of incident the second or third time she went, which is when she met and became infatuated with a woman she calls Her. Listen to this:
She’s statuesque and exotic and beautiful—everything I’m not. When she picked me up off the floor and kissed me it was a rush like nothing I’ve ever known. I can’t stop thinking about her. All I want is to be with Her. I have to be with Her. She says I’m not ready, but I am. I am! And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it.”
“Wow,” Marty breathed after a long silence. “That was creepy. Talk about teenage obsession.”
Check back tomorrow for another taste.