Neglect.

Ah, it’s starting to happen already – the inevitable practice of me neglecting my blog for so long that it eventually becomes defunct. And here I promised myself that wouldn’t happen.

I am procrastinating again, naturally. I’m finding myself with a listless, unmotivated, and ultimately foul-mouthed character who is, not so much making it difficult for me to get writing as he is making it difficult for me to demand too much of him. Of course this is going to change. But right now, it is virtually impossible to squeeze four-thousand words out of him doing little more than sitting and watching television.

I suppose this is what I get for outlining a slow-moving plot, but then it’s a change from ‘all action, all the time’ … or should that be ‘all dismemberment, all the time’? I’m not sure.

Ultimately, I don’t think I’ve made a mistake in choosing this path for this particular month, because even when I try to write something more ‘high octane’ …  or hard-hitting, or … I don’t know what else, it becomes decidedly dull when set against what it should be. So, I guess by writing something that is fairly dull (although in my own warped way, with my own warped sense of humour, I’m finding it both acerbic and entertaining), it means that, by comparison, I should be able to step it up a notch later in the game.

That, or it becomes something of an ode to cynicism.

It isn’t all doom and gloom, though … um … not that it was to begin with. This is actually quite refreshing. It is my pride that won’t let me give up, and I find that my pride can be the greatest motivator of all. I could sit here and think to myself ‘well, you don’t have to write it all. You could make the fifty thousand and be done with it’ … but I haven’t done that in, what? Almost three years? Something like that. I have this little voice in the back of my mind telling me ‘come on, you’re 100k, girl! Remember that? Live up to it!’ … thus, I write. I write until my fingers bleed …

… ah, hyperbole. Naturally, my fingers are’t actually bleeding (although I’m sure a fair few people would be overjoyed to hear that I’ve inflicted a great deal of pain on myself), but I’m getting a nice little kick out of racing for the finish line, with an hour left in which to write another two-thousand words.

Speaking of which, I think it’s time for a spot of Write or Die

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