A glass of Clos du Val cabernet sauvignon and a Unisom sent me into the land of the Sandman last night, soundly clipping the horns of the Insomnia Demon. The night before I laid awake the whole night, except for moments of dreamless loss of consciousness. Those moments probably added up to an hour’s sleep. I was determined not to have that happen again. I can’t afford to be fatigued day after day.
Yesterday I didn’t write a new page on Sweet Taboo, but I read portions of the manuscript and made story notes, adding the seeds that will carry me to the end. I’m very close to finishing this second draft.
Doing the GDRs and setting achievable goals have helped me considerably during the past five years, but I guard against becoming trapped by the structure. Serendipity and flexibility must spice the mix. I can’t let the structure I’ve imposed strangle me and blunt the point of the whole goal-setting exercise which is giving myself a map to get me where I want to be–a working writer.
The second draft of Sweet Taboo now stands at 51,365 words out of the goal of 60,000.
The January Untitled Short Story #1 is at 2,098 words, no set length, except I want to follow Edgar Allen Poe’s principle and keep it to a length that can be read in one sitting.
The weather has turned balmy, supposed to be in the mid-seventies in Los Angeles today. Think at lunch I’ll take my tablet outside and see about getting a page or two done.