Progress Report: 2/23/09--3/01/09
Starvation
Word Count: 18,662
Page Count: 92
NO PROGRESS
The plan for last week was to sit down and just write a long synopsis for my work in progress. It's not an outline, but it'd allow me to organize my thoughts and pay attention to specific story-lines to see what's going where and how it gets resolved, etc. My mental revisions from the week before have really thrown my brain for a tailspin for three of my characters, and right now, it's really, really hard to focus on the story. It just feels to slippery for me to hold on to right now.
Add to that last week's complete and total EPIC FAIL.
Wednesday: Greg gets a pay cut and I get a pay freeze. YAY.
Thursday: Friend of my grandmother's tells me she thinks my grandmother is showing signs of dementia. YAY.
Friday: While getting my oil changed, I have them look at my oh-so-abused brakes and learn that I need to replace my rotors. Okay, fine, I expected that. I did NOT expect to have to order CUSTOM ROTORS for my car that totaled $300, not including the new brake pads as well as the labor. YAY.
Saturday: I wake up with a cold. YAY.
Sunday: Still fighting a cold. YAY.
Technically, Monday and Tuesday of last week should've been productive, but I had to go over my long synopsis idea with digitalclone first to make sure that wouldn't be the same as rewriting, and that didn't happen until Tuesday.
I did, however, send off chapters 8-10 to digitalclone for her to rip to shreds. Not much, but I'm rather fond of the dialogue in those pages, so maybe there's something salvageable.
This week: pray to GOD I feel better (I don't) and that nothing else bad pops up (so far, no good: three blows of bad news today which I won't repeat here), so that I can actually focus on this slippery novel and whip out a long synopsis. Or maybe my brain will freeze at the thought of a synopsis and therefore force me to write forward even though I have no idea what the hell to put in the middle of this book. YAY.
For those of you wondering: I talked to my mother and my grandmother is fine. As fine as a nearly 74-year-old woman can be, as she worries way too much and that kills brain cells (no really, it does), and she's starting to do what we term "stupid stuff" like climb ladders when she knows better. That kind of thing. Not dementia, but Mom will keep me posted. Yes, I feel better regarding that bit of worrisome news.
Word Count: 18,662
Page Count: 92
NO PROGRESS
The plan for last week was to sit down and just write a long synopsis for my work in progress. It's not an outline, but it'd allow me to organize my thoughts and pay attention to specific story-lines to see what's going where and how it gets resolved, etc. My mental revisions from the week before have really thrown my brain for a tailspin for three of my characters, and right now, it's really, really hard to focus on the story. It just feels to slippery for me to hold on to right now.
Add to that last week's complete and total EPIC FAIL.
Wednesday: Greg gets a pay cut and I get a pay freeze. YAY.
Thursday: Friend of my grandmother's tells me she thinks my grandmother is showing signs of dementia. YAY.
Friday: While getting my oil changed, I have them look at my oh-so-abused brakes and learn that I need to replace my rotors. Okay, fine, I expected that. I did NOT expect to have to order CUSTOM ROTORS for my car that totaled $300, not including the new brake pads as well as the labor. YAY.
Saturday: I wake up with a cold. YAY.
Sunday: Still fighting a cold. YAY.
Technically, Monday and Tuesday of last week should've been productive, but I had to go over my long synopsis idea with digitalclone first to make sure that wouldn't be the same as rewriting, and that didn't happen until Tuesday.
I did, however, send off chapters 8-10 to digitalclone for her to rip to shreds. Not much, but I'm rather fond of the dialogue in those pages, so maybe there's something salvageable.
This week: pray to GOD I feel better (I don't) and that nothing else bad pops up (so far, no good: three blows of bad news today which I won't repeat here), so that I can actually focus on this slippery novel and whip out a long synopsis. Or maybe my brain will freeze at the thought of a synopsis and therefore force me to write forward even though I have no idea what the hell to put in the middle of this book. YAY.
For those of you wondering: I talked to my mother and my grandmother is fine. As fine as a nearly 74-year-old woman can be, as she worries way too much and that kills brain cells (no really, it does), and she's starting to do what we term "stupid stuff" like climb ladders when she knows better. That kind of thing. Not dementia, but Mom will keep me posted. Yes, I feel better regarding that bit of worrisome news.