It's November 2, and I'm behind schedule. If I'm to finish writing a 50,000-word novel in the next 28 days, I'll need to step up my production considerably. I had the best intentions, of course. I think I heard something once about good intentions paving a road that leads to somewhere; I just can't remember where.
Today was a day off from school, and my sons had friends over. I did actually start to work, but when you hear someone say "Wait--don't start doing the whip and the nae-nae until you have the spacesuit on," how can you not stop what you're doing to investigate? And that wasn't even the most entertaining thing I overheard today.
The bad news is that I only wrote about 200 words (not counting these words.) The good news is that I had a scathingly brilliant idea that might really pull the whole thing together. 200 down and 49,800 to go. Onward.
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