Up at 05:00 and into the idiots’ graveyard. I only wrote 450 words or so, but they were good words. One or two of them even groovy.
This is like march all over again. It’s the 13th today and I’ve yet to have even three or four days’ clear run at the fucker.
March was when I wrote light entertainment – while fighting off triage, the DSS and attending dozens of interviews – for jobs I didn’t get a sniff at.
The novel took me about 37, 38 days and weighed in at almost 70,000 words.
So I suppose, the familiarity of the territory’s why I’m not freaking, more approaching it calmly. Doing what I can every day and watching my word count mount up – albeit slowly.
I’m writing this on the bus to the induction to my training block. Two weeks of intensive theory – while having to work as well.
I’ll complete this novel though. In fact, my only sacrifices will be food, rest and personal hygiene.

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