Actually, the story is going pretty well. I underestimated yesterday's count slightly--I was pretty close to 2000 when I typed it up. I probably added another 1500 over the course of the day today, maybe a bit more. And everything is moving along nicely. I still did more procrastinating than writing, but I'm getting into the swing of it. If I get in an hour before work and another hour in the evening, with a few stints at lunch if I fall behind, I should be able to finish this thing one more time.
But here comes the rant, and one reason why I considered not doing this at all this year.
This year I want to write something *good*. Not "good" as in finished--I realize this is a first draft, and as such it'll be lumpy and rough and have scenes out of place and scenes that should be removed entirely and characters' names will change (one guy has had three names so far) and much revision will be required. But I want it to be the start of a story that actually deserves revision. For me, that means taking my time, thinking about what I'm doing, walking around or reading other things between writing stints, and accepting that I will get in an average of about 1500-2000 words a day if I keep at it. And this is supposed to be a personal challenge. I should be OK with these facts. I should embrace my own strengths and weaknesses and work with them.
But every year, I watch as certain friends end the first few days with over 5k, or over 8k, or 10k, or 12k, or more (not joking), and I feel like throwing in the towel. I couldn't write like that, at least not without serious compromise and a lot of stream-of-consciousness blather. This obviously isn't true for all participants. And does it matter? No. This isn't a race. If that style of writing works for them, I should be OK with it.
But I'm not--not entirely. I end up getting competitive and feeling miserable about my lack of speed and my inability to sit and just write for hours at a go. Logically, I know that not all writers write that way, and my own way is OK if it gets results. But illogically, I don't like being lapped. Repeatedly.
And then I get mad at myself for being mad.
It all makes me very cranky. I wish I knew the solution. Ice cream, maybe. Or chocolate. Or both in one.
I'll leave you with a link I came across while procrastinating today. It's a wonderful post on writing from an author I only recently discovered: Tess Gerritsen. It is so nice to know that I'm in great company when it comes to my inability to plan!