6000 words a week. Some marveled at the goal, others scoffed, and still others shrugged in indifference. None of it mattered. I had something measurable that held me accountable to the writing. It was attainable, and challenging.
And I stopped counting. A few things happened. Editing happened. Life did too. I found myself surrounded by all these distractions. Wonderful distractions. Infuriating distractions. One, in particular, spectacular distraction that I wouldn't trade for 60,000 words in a week.
What does a writer do though? Among other things, a writer finds ways to write. Allowing distractions to stop the work is for would-be writers.
Different writers use different techniques, routines and motivations to overcome the obstacles of life and time. I count words. If I'm shooting for 1000 words in a day, and I'm at 800, then I skip the Doctor Who episode and I write 200 more words.
(Side Note. For years, I've tried to find a way to enjoy Doctor Who. It's the kind of show I should love, but didn't. I finally figured out a way to like it. It's called David Tennant. The best Doctor.)This is what works for me. So I'm counting again.
And no, this doesn't mean that I wasn't writing. It means that, I'd work and feel like I was spinning my wheels. I let myself get bogged down too much in rewriting, and polishing the voice right out of my stories. It means I'd be content with 100 words of variable quality, instead of 800 words of excellent quality. (I write better when I write quickly.)
Started last night. Got.. oh, somewhere before 400-500 words. Call it 450. I'm too lazy to fact check right now, and I haven't started the wordcount spreadsheet back up again anyway. If I hadn't been counting, I probably wouldn't have cracked 100.
I'm back.
Hey, do blogs count? If so, I have a good start on today's work.
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