I'm in the home stretch of book two. Getting up early to write before work hasn't been easy, but I've literally forced myself to write "just 500 words" every day. So far every day, I've exceeded that amount. It hasn't always gone smoothly, but it has moved forward, and that's what's important. I'm at 99,000 words, and there's under 15,000 to go (very possibly under 10,000) 'til the draft is done.
Maybe I'm dragging my feet a little on finishing this WIP because I know that when I do, I'll have two books to revise. And that's just fucking scary. Double trouble! But I can handle it.
What else? Someone's been reading this blog. Someone I know, I mean. At first I was a little unnerved by this, but it took about 10 seconds for me to (wo)man up. I told myself, "If you do things right, in a couple years people who know you and perfect strangers will all be reading your blog and website. That's part of how you'll sell books, dummy." So bring on the page views, people. ;)
I stumbled upon this Reddit AMA and it's been making me feel a whole lot better about being someone who writes psychological thrillers that are particularly dark. I've always been terrified I won't be able to get an agent, publisher, etc., for these reasons, but hey, if Gillian Flynn did it...well, if I put out a good manuscript, hopefully I can do it, too. Looks like she had a little trouble getting there quickly, but she definitely got there. That's a good reminder that all it takes is one. One good agent who believes in you and sees your talent and your book's awesomeness.
I've been listening to some diverse music lately--a lot of The Pretty Reckless, old Distillers albums, Fitz & the Tantrums. Today I fell in love with G. Love and Special Sauce's new album, Sugar (I am, after all, a Philly girl). Some of it inspires me to write; some doesn't, but I love it all the same.
Writing can get a little lonely, so I've made some new friends. Feathered friends. I put a bird feeder (and occasionally, some bread) on the balcony, and the birds show up every day, chirping their hungry little hearts out. I see tons of different birds...and tons of bird fights, which I didn't anticipate. The sparrows squabble, the woodpeckers attack every other bird that approaches the feeder, and the blue jays scream at each other at 6 AM. I take entirely too many pictures and videos of them, and they seem to be growing used to me creeping toward the window, camera in hand. My favorites are the chickadees; they're tiny, adorable, feathery balls of cuteness.
Of course, the one problem with my new feathered friends is that they often show up when I'm writing in the morning, and it's really hard to pay attention to writing when bird cuteness and/or bird squabbles are happening right outside...