(no subject)
First day of summer. Horrid season. I have retreated to the air-conditioned bedroom with the dogs and my laptop. Everywhere else in the house is too hot to think, let alone write.
At around 32K, the inevitable fit of panic about my novel began. Skipping over writing the unfun parts - the ones that require a lot more in the way of tough decisions and worldbuilding time than the two hours between when I signed up for Camp NaNoWriMo and when it began allowed - can't last forever. Until July, maybe, but not forever.
I suppose it would help if I stopped faffing around online and actually wrote some actual words today.
(This entry was originally posted at my dreamwidth.)
At around 32K, the inevitable fit of panic about my novel began. Skipping over writing the unfun parts - the ones that require a lot more in the way of tough decisions and worldbuilding time than the two hours between when I signed up for Camp NaNoWriMo and when it began allowed - can't last forever. Until July, maybe, but not forever.
I suppose it would help if I stopped faffing around online and actually wrote some actual words today.
(This entry was originally posted at my dreamwidth.)