I know you’re all going to yell at me for being online (as you should), however I’m taking a brief break from my mad rush to finish the Fucker to think about process. I have to work on being as focused and effective as possible this week. Driving across three or four states doesn’t help, but that was planned already.
So I’m at the Micky Mouse glass-topped iron table in the attic of my sister-in-law’s house in [state redacted] trying to eke out another 500 to 1000 words. Over the past two days I have written 5,000 words, and only some of them suck. It could be that the time spent away from my manuscript has given me some insight. I know for sure I write better first drafts than I did when I started this mess. Tomorrow I’m driving four hours, which scares me to death, because I’m not sure I’m going to be able to work. However I am within spitting distance of today’s goal, which was 3000 words. I may not make it, but I think I rounded out the last section in a way that works.
I am a lazy, procrastinating writer. So when I tell you that I’m finishing my Fucker by Friday, I want you to see that you can do this too. It won’t be the last draft, I am sure, but I’m putting the Fucker to bed. And, to mix metaphors, it’s going to see the light of day. Not publication, but professional readers. What I want you to learn from my happy writing moments, which are mixed with seething anxiety about whether or not I can get this done, is that I’ve been wasting good writing time doing unnecessary things I like less than writing. Work and dishes are necessary, but so is writing. Now let’s all get the fuck off the Internet and write.