Almost complete opposite places, from blog to blog. Last time I was camping in the middle of nowhere, the only sounds my breathing and the gurlge of who knows what as my body metabolized alcohol. Tonight, I'm sitting at a bar in a sort-of club, sipping a jack and ginger listening to top forty hits as performed by Zowie Bowie. Pretty sure I prefer the former. Reasons for the latter may or may not be disclosed at a later date.

And I don't really have much to say except that I'm writing for the sake of writing right now, keeping momentum even if this isn't anything much. And jack and ginger is yummy. Been plugging away the past week or so, keeping focus on one project and ingoring all the others. . . okay, that's not entirely true. I upgraded to Snow Leopard OS last week and it invalidated my final draft license so I have to call them and get it renewed, buy it means I can't work on my scripts. Bloody technology.

But keeping track of word count is surprisingly motivating. Admittedly, the count doesn't matter much if the words are complete tripe, but it feels like progress. Today, I broke 20k on the novel I decided I should write. Maybe a quarter way thru, don't know yet. And then there's the whole rewriting and editingand cutting out the crap and getting it to the point someone might want to read it. Converting quantity into quality.

Ah, but quantity is enticing. Adding a spare adjective here, an unneccesary descriptive paragraph there, and all of a sudden it feels like something's been achieved as the word count climbs higher.

Thinking about taking part in the 'write a novel in a month' thingy. November 1st, start writing. Have to write 50k by the arse end of November. Might be good to try and really focus like that, but wha with work and BNTA it's hard enough doing the 20 a month I'm shooting fr right now. At least on my own personal word count I get to use my blog toward the total.

Hmm, how much longer can I streatch this about nothing. . .