Yeah. I'm doing it. Fueled by warm cider and Southern Comfort, I am attempting to hammer out 50,000 words of a novel before the end of the month. Along with 25,000 or so other people, 75% of whom are doomed to failure. The odds are against me, I'm afraid, but even if I only make it to 30,000 words? That's still pretty swell. It's about time I stopped calling myself a writer and actually wrote something.
Progress to date: 2500 words. Looooooooong way to go.
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3 comments:
Good luck! I should take on the same challenge for my thesis, maybe I'd get somewhere :)
Oh, and cider and Souther Comfort? HOW did I not think of that?
Yeah, get the crap out of you! It sound like a tribute to the Beatniks - well, in some very weird way!?
Go mum, and get high from writing!
Break a leg!
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