Well it’s 8:30 or so and I am back at Starbucks. The staff is starting to recognize me. I only got about 4 or 5 hours of sleep, not good–I’m the kind of guy that really needs his 8 or 10, but I got up about 7 and really felt the need to get out and write.
I don’t know why I can’t write at home. It would sure as hell be cheaper. I am trying to ignore the mounting cost of venti white chocolate mochas.
And why I am trying to wake up and clear the cobwebs and rambling in a stream of unconscious… What the hell is up with the attitude some people give you about trying to write a book?
I admit that the defensiveness may be my issue or that I seem to be associating with people who can barely read let alone write. But when I share I am trying to do this thing where you try to write 50K words on a first draft of a novel in 30 days they ask why. And it is not the “Why, that sounds interesting how did you come to do that?” It’s more like “Why that is stupid.”
People never ask why you are going home to play video games, watch TV, clean your guns or beat your wife (I do live in the south) do they?
Why am I trying to write a novel?
Because I want to.
Well that was an interesting rant. I wonder how that will read when I am functioning again. I really need a hat. Aha, anyway, I only have like 12K words left to hit the finish line. Damn the aquatic launched projectiles I will do this by tomorrow.
Okay, time to spell check this sucker and get writing. I have all of these dead bodies and I have no idea who is shooting them. Maybe the cops do, I don’t know. And my MC is cracking up. I am bringing in a shrink. And a second rung character is in the hospital and he needs to get better so he can go to that concert where he nearly gets date raped. And then Molly still has to have her baby. We need to find out why Danny is upset and becoming a drunk. And why is Dillon going out-of-town every time he has a few days off. And people think small towns are nice and quite. Oh and will Aidan stop being a dick to JJ? I hope so, it is annoying me.