I’m over half-way done. After more than two weeks, I’ve found myself getting into a nice rhythm, the feeling of a habit slithering into my bones to find a place of rest.
There have been a few nights I have dreaded writing 1,667 words, not sure if I could even come up with 300. But I almost always do.
The trick? It’s obvious. And it’s not new.
Just write.
That’s it. Don’t care what it might sound like or look like or what plot holes it might lead you to. Just write.
Who cares if it’s bad? It can be ripped out later. And you can always write something else tomorrow, maybe using some of the ideas you discovered the previous day while meandering. Those ideas might be drab in one circumstance, but shine like the sun if given different scenery.
Here’s another excerpt, without context: