A few weeks back, someone said, "Write down a goal and then write down how you will feel when you achieve that goal." That seemed like a good idea so I did it, only I goofed. What I'd written down was really two goals in one...and I didn't achieve it. Them. Whatever. That's not to say I'm not a great deal closer to the half of the goal that is still achievable. I am. Something like 20,000 words closer, in fact. I'm not usually a big goal-setter, you see. Sure, the arbitrary, meaningless, self-imposed deadline has had its uses in my life (NaNoWriMo, anyone?), but this time I let life take precedence over such a deadline. And you know what? I'm okay with that. My mom and my bro needed help with some stuff, and I didn't get any writing done those days. That's fine. A dear friend was in town from San Diego and I didn't get a word written while she was here. That's fine, too. Because living in the moment, enjoying time with people I love, is more important than a daily word count or even an arbitrary, meaningless, self-imposed deadline. No editor or publisher is breathing down my neck for this novel. (Which is good and bad and a whole other post in itself.) I have beta readers tapping their toes impatiently, but they'll forgive the wait. The manuscript in question is winding down. It has surpassed my previous word count record by about 6,000 words (so far). It will be done when it is done with however many words it takes, and when it's done it'll go to the beta readers, and then I hope it will eventually find a home with a publisher and make it out to you.
On another subject completely (and yet not entirely unrelated), it's Bisexuality Day today. Here's an old favourite to help you celebrate. :-)