Progress.

To my future reader,

I’m getting there. Progressing. I told myself I would do 1,000 words a day of blogging or novelling, and since then I’ve so far exceeded that target every day. In my opinion writing 1,000 words on a blog would be taking the easy way out, and none of those days have been dedicated to this blog. (until now that is)

I’ve fallen into the flow of it in a way that I haven’t in a very long time. I feel that I’ve reached the bit just before the end of my plot, you know, the clichéd bit where everything is fine and then suddenly everything is not fine, that bit. I just need to figure out how I want to start the ending, and I need to decide what my actual ending is, I’m slightly torn between a few at the moment, my mood changes as I write, and with that, so does my ending. I’m currently at 35,000 words with just, as I’ve described before, the skeleton of my plot, I still need to add the flesh. So I’m thinking it should end up at ~60,000 which is less than I had told myself at the start of NNWM, but I think it’s a decent amount. No doubt that number will change throughout filling and cutting and editing and re-writing, but for now 60k seems ideal. 

I’m finding that I can persuade myself to write a lot easier now, I’m not being tempted by a quick game of FIFA on the Xbox with a flatmate, I’m no longer wasting time with un-productive un-productivities (being a writer gives you complete license to make up words, right?) Instead when I get back from Uni, I retreat to my room and write. It helps that over the weekend a lot of my housemates go home to their families, it means that I can sit and write in my room without feeling like an unsociable hermit. I’ve tried writing in the public spaces, in the lounge/living room (depending on your hypothetical geographic location), but I feel extremely concious of my novel in public. They all know that I’m writing a novel, and (mostly) they all think pretty admirably of me for it, so that’s good. But that’s not the problem.

I don’t know what it is, but I feel very nervous when writing in front of people, it’s a mixture between feelings of anxiety, nervousness and embarrassment. At the moment my novel is very raw, and it’s very personal, people know I’m writing it and they know loosely what it’s about, but the thought of someone reading what I’m writing over my shoulder is something that creeps me out a little bit. I don’t know if that’s something unique to just me or something other writers feel, I don’t know any other writers to ask. Other than the millions that make them selves accessible on public forums in the shape of, I don’t know, a blog or something. 

It’s not that the content is embarrassing, or how I write, or what I write about, I just feel uncomfortable writing in public. And anyway, I find writing in my room with an album on far more productive than writing in a common area with people screaming around me at the Xbox or at each other.

Today is my day off for writing (novellistically) because today is a day when I remember that I am a University student. I have a birthday party to go to that will most probably end in inebriation. I’ve classed this as character research though, there is a fair mention of alcoholism in my book on High Schoolers. I take my work very seriously, as you can see. I also have to go and revise for a test I have on Monday, the test is worth 25% of the 25% coursework allocation of one module out of the 36 I will do over my three years here, so admittedly the score I get in this test will not greatly affect my overall degree, but, at risk of sounding like a supermarket: 

Every little helps.

James

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