Twelve of Thirty

I again hit my wordcount goal for the day about half an hour too late to technically get it done in the actual day. I’m at 18,729 out of 20,000 as of midnight, but got to 19,021 before going to sleep, which is behind, but catching up. Fatigue is a growing problem: I’m bad at getting things done in November, and the further into the month I persist, the more the overall quality is declining. I have to keep reminding myself that my goal is to produce anything, anything at all, in a month when I’m normally creatively barren. It’s fine if something like 15% of what I’ve written is so bad it probably needs to be cut or rewritten completely, and it’s fine if, even after revision, what I’ve got is still far short of my best work. All I have to produce to be successful here is something which is better than literally nothing. If, at the end of the month, I have 50,000 words which someone trapped on a desert island with no other means of entertainment would be willing to read, that is victory.

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