Despite some naysayers (I'm not naming any names, except for Nanuk) I still am knee-deep in le writing project, even skipping pre-work football today (the Bucs had a bye week, so it wasn't total torture) to do some writing. I've been pretty good about it, by my (admittedly loose) standards. But I got an "encouragement" note from Nanowrimo the other day, suggesting that this weekend we all should've hit 20,000 words. I won't say how short I am, but at the rate I'm going I'll feel pretty awesome about myself if I hit 20,000 for the month.
Despite the almost inevitable failure and disappointment, I have been learning more and more. Latest revelation: I just can't write at home. I don't know why. I just can't focus.
I was talking about this with a friend the other day -- who said she couldn't write in a bar, but can at home. I'm exactly the opposite -- Saturday morning I tried to get things done at home, couldn't -- despaired, worried. Then I went to Manuel's later in the day, and the creative juices started flowing immediately.
At least now I've got an excuse to hit the bottle.