I have a terrible confession to make

You can now say you've reached the quarter pole.

 

Just cracked 80,000 words in the sunlit coffee shop. That feels good. Fuck the 70,000s. That sucked. So stupid that the word count matters that much psychologically, but it feels like I'm running downhill now.

Also, thanks to the kind, similarly obsessive soul who looped the new NEFFEX song for an hour. Most helpful.

 

Nice.

Downhill from here.

 

Passed 90,000 words today: Sitting at 90,331. Maybe four thousand to go. I'll finish a rough first draft by the end of the week, about six weeks before deadline. Lots of time to polish. Feeling pretty damn good about it. A bit of work on a lot of days. Need to remind myself of that forever.

 

The work is showing up.

 

I am at the coffee shop, in the finishing stretch, and the man two tables away from me but sharing the same church pew is farting like an elephant. They are silent and he believes he is going unnoticed, but I can feel the vibration.

This has been today's episode of "Writing in Coffee Shops." Tune in next week for "Lady Who Treats this Place like Her Actual Office and Then Gets Mad at the Side-Eye She Receives During her Thunderously Loud Phone Calls."

 

I don't know how you do it. Much easier to sit in peaceful, unfarting, unphoning solitude at home.

Coffee's cheaper, too.

On a deadline for the next one. Last one arrives in your mailbox any day.

Busy busy.

 

Well, this morning I've reached the end. The first of many ends. 93,324 words. I'm feeling pretty emotional about it. Obviously, I have a lot of work left to do, but there's a book where there wasn't a book before.

I started this thread when I started writing the book. January 11, 2018. So, almost exactly nine months to write a decent first draft. I would not like to start again right at this moment. But it's possible.

I hope if any of you have been giving serious thought to writing a book, that you treat it like a job and you write it. There is nothing between you and holding something you've written in your hands but time.

 

Nice work, my friend. Congratulations.

 

Well done. It's been a joy following this thread.

 

Agreed. I especially liked it when type killed a few people in his coffee shop. Good times!

 

Dunno who said it but it's true: I hate writing but I love having written.