Ugh. That’s all I have to say.
I’m 689 words away from hitting 25,000 words on my intelligent chick lit novel.
This is probably a cause for celebration or, at the very least, a call for a dozen or so jumping jacks.
The plan is to surpass 25,000 words tomorrow before work, go to work and then leave in time for a Pilates class, which is not jumping jacks at all but it still follows the theme of the mental and the physical going together.
Actually, when I gave myself deadlines and wrote to-do lists in black marker, I told myself I was going to write 5,000 words a week, which basically meant 1,000 words five days a week. Definitely doable except on Tuesdays when I learn Putonghua at 8 a.m. and the occasional morning where I can’t get up early even if the coffee on the stovetop espresso is bubbling away.
So I’m behind and it’s not crushing my soul or anything, but 25,000 is a whole lot farther down than the 35,000 words that I should have been approaching now.
I finished a book last night, Message from an Unknown Chinese Mother by Xinran. I should read her blog. It’s in Chinese, pinyin and English which is a triple win for someone (moi) who only barely got through her class on Tuesday. Still struggling to find the reason why the word for iron rod can be used to say great or thumbs up.
And because I was so far away from 35,000 words that I just reset this month’s target to 25,000 words, I was left with time to browse theoutnet.com (okay, fine I do that every day) and discover this blog about a brunette whose a writer (like me) and on a budget (in theory, like me). Lei, come io, anche piace tutte le cose italiane, allora se posso farle una domanda: ha gia letto Vita Prada? I bet Prof. Ricci is disappointed it’s not Calvino (don’t worry, still love him, just taking a break).