I’m not going to lie; I struggle with my word count some days. Hell, I really struggled today. I’ve actually not even managed it and it really pisses me off that I’ve not done it.
I woke up this morning and went for a walk.
Here’s where someone jumps in and says ‘wow, wow, wow, Sheep, my man. That’s good, walking helps you do shit.’
Sure – I ain’t your man though buddy – but first thing? That threw my day off completely. My significant other started her work first thing and had finished by the time I got back. We met up for lunch and a shower and then I settled down to work.
Only one problem – she wanted attention.
I’m not blaming her, I’m really not. I should have thought about what I was doing more. This is why I normally get up as early as I can, do my shit and then I’ve got the rest of the day for other stuff. Some writers thrive on doing shit three days before their deadline – Douglas Adams wrote one of the Hitchhiker books over a long weekend because his agent stuffed him into a crappy little apartment and forced him to do it. I’m not like that. I wish I could be. I feel like I went three rounds with Brawny McPunchington if I manage two thousand words. I normally try for one thousand.
I have a couple of friends that can spit out a thousand words in about half an hour. That’s not the case for me. I have to work for each word like it’s a sausage coming out the sausage making machine (or whatever they use these days).
So, my advice for you young whippersnappers out there; get your shit done early in the day. Get up at six, get your special someone out the door as quick as you can and then you hit that writing like your oedipal complex on steroids. If you don’t get it all done in the time you’ve set aside then that’s ok, you have the rest of the day to do it in.