I suppose reading posts about my word count isn’t very thrilling. Using “word count” doesn’t really capture any sense of actual progress anyway, it’s like a fuel gauge, it shows how far I’ve come, but it says nothing about the path I took, or the ups and downs I’ve had.
Having said that, I’m approaching 54,000 words now, and the words are coming pretty easily. At least for the moment I know exactly what I need to write when I sit down at the keyboard, and that’s the real trick of writing to me. When I have the story nailed down, the actual act of writing is pretty simple. It’s when I’m having story trouble that I find it hard to write.
I have been a little too self-deprecating in my humor about my progress too. I typically bemoan my word count, especially when it’s hard to write, instead of celebrating it.
The reality is that I don’t have much time to write. Between work, home projects (of which there are legion) other interests (those fish don’t catch themselves y’know), I may have two hours of writing time in a good night. Probably something along the lines of ten hours solid writing would be a good week.
I started writing Mountain Home just at the end of April. That means I’ve been writing for just a bit more than four months. That’s over ten thousand words a month, which doesn’t sound like much, but it will get an epic novel done in a year.
And a book a year is nothing to sneeze at for someone in my situation.
So I’m going to just appreciate the progress I’ve made. This story has promise I believe. I hope I’m right.