Not that I’m saying my crit partner never swears. But she’s got a certain Southern gentility about her, and while my truck-driver/sailor/barmaid/whatever career track you want to use to describe my vocabulary occasionally seems to rub off, still, I always feel like it’s a special occasion when Kettle lets one fly.
Last night I was up until 1am (again). I was writing out a dark and hopefully suspenseful scene between my villain and my heroine. I had felt when I sat down to write it that it was going to be easy for me. I knew what was going to happen, what I wanted, I could see most of it, and I just assumed that the details were going to come to me as I wrote it out.
When I finished it, I felt good about it. If you’ve been around any length of time, you know that’s not really my usual state of mind. But I did. I read it through once for typos, copied Kettle via email, and dumped it into the draft, which I rarely do without getting her thoughts first.
So this morning she gets on the chat with me blah blah, and I’m yammering about something and all of a sudden I get:
shut up, I’m engrossed in what you sent me….
Well damn. Ok. [waits patiently…]
She comes back with:
that was [expletive deleted] awesome
Well [expletive deleted]-A! Didn’t that make me feel just special?
So, all that simply to tell you that things are going well for me this week. I’m well ahead in my word count goals for the first time since the challenge started.
3577 since yesterday’s check-in, 22,504 since the challenge started, and 58,787 for the manuscript as a whole.