Sixteen days of Sam and Mitch
Today I set myself a goal. I said I wanted to write five thousand words in the Sam and Mitch story, and I wanted to work out for two hours. I met both goals, and fact exceeded both just a little.
The story is going okay. I'm in the opening again, and it's clear what I'm putting down isn't quite right, but it's giving me the momentum to get back to the bit I posted as teaser the other day, and however you slice it, I'm getting words. I'm thinking this story would do well around 80k, so if I write 5k a day, that's sixteen days. So I'm going to try and hit 5k every day for the next sixteen days and get myself a draft. I'm sure this is not going to work quite as smoothly/easily as all that, but I'll give it a go regardless. And then it's Temple Boy, goddamn it. I don't care how loudly STB knocks. It's going to wait.
The fitness goal was because I've been so very, very bad lately about exercising, and it's starting to take its toll on me both physically and mentally. I feel better now going to bed than I've felt in some time, and I actually got a lot done today. I'll get more done tomorrow if even a fraction of this energy bleeds over. Which is good, because there's laundry.
The one really educational thing today was that when I began this exercise I was so tired and dull it was almost superhuman effort just to make my fingers go. I couldn't imagine how my brain was going to get on board, but it did, and the more I worked, the better I became. The same was true and with even starker shifts of the physical aspect. But the most telling thing was that in both instances I could not get started until I let go, until I told myself there was no agenda, that I only had to do what I could, that yes, there was this goal, and we would keep at it, but it was just "two hours of exercise," not "get through the whole chart," and it was 5k, not three chapters that were so beautiful God would weep to read them. I didn't have to sell anything, and I didn't have to cure cancer. Just good work, and it was all between myself and my own limits. It felt very good. I hope I don't have to get that exhausted, anxious, and off the rails to find that spot again.
I will now reward myself with a bit of Spider solitaire. I already answered all my email and popped into my groups, and after a few rounds of cards, I'll shower and read in bed. Then do it all again tomorrow.
The story is going okay. I'm in the opening again, and it's clear what I'm putting down isn't quite right, but it's giving me the momentum to get back to the bit I posted as teaser the other day, and however you slice it, I'm getting words. I'm thinking this story would do well around 80k, so if I write 5k a day, that's sixteen days. So I'm going to try and hit 5k every day for the next sixteen days and get myself a draft. I'm sure this is not going to work quite as smoothly/easily as all that, but I'll give it a go regardless. And then it's Temple Boy, goddamn it. I don't care how loudly STB knocks. It's going to wait.
The fitness goal was because I've been so very, very bad lately about exercising, and it's starting to take its toll on me both physically and mentally. I feel better now going to bed than I've felt in some time, and I actually got a lot done today. I'll get more done tomorrow if even a fraction of this energy bleeds over. Which is good, because there's laundry.
The one really educational thing today was that when I began this exercise I was so tired and dull it was almost superhuman effort just to make my fingers go. I couldn't imagine how my brain was going to get on board, but it did, and the more I worked, the better I became. The same was true and with even starker shifts of the physical aspect. But the most telling thing was that in both instances I could not get started until I let go, until I told myself there was no agenda, that I only had to do what I could, that yes, there was this goal, and we would keep at it, but it was just "two hours of exercise," not "get through the whole chart," and it was 5k, not three chapters that were so beautiful God would weep to read them. I didn't have to sell anything, and I didn't have to cure cancer. Just good work, and it was all between myself and my own limits. It felt very good. I hope I don't have to get that exhausted, anxious, and off the rails to find that spot again.
I will now reward myself with a bit of Spider solitaire. I already answered all my email and popped into my groups, and after a few rounds of cards, I'll shower and read in bed. Then do it all again tomorrow.