It’s almost the end of the year— three days left.
I have 50,000 words (give or take a thousand) to write before December 31st.
Aaaaand… it’s not working out very well for me. If November was a month of fantastic writing, December is one full of sluggishness.
Sometimes I think I need to start a really happy, silly novel. Maybe writing something about really small people that bounce up and down all the time. Something with magic. And cats.
Magic and cats always help, for some reason. Usually the cats talk, also.
… Sometimes I wonder if I need a plot or just more time. In a way, I really don’t want to not get the fifty thousand. It feels like much too much work. In another way, I’ve been working at this for 363 days so far.
Surely I can pull the last few things out of my brain and get the amount of words I know I can write in this amount of time. It shouldn’t be too hard. I just have to turn the internet off, realize that my entire life will now be occupied with writing (for the next three days), and write. It’s not so hard. I did it in November.
How are your end-of-year goals working out?