Alright, I will concede, I am flagging a bit this evening.
After work today, I had a pleasant afternoon with my wife, having lunch out and sorting out some of our usual chores in town that come around every month. You know, the sort of stuff you do every payday. We got home around half four, and I’ve been pretty much writing solidly ever since, as much out of enjoyment as anything else. I’ve been enjoying writing Devil’s Regiment so much that I got thoroughly wrapped up in it, and before I knew it the clock was ticking to 9pm and I’d cranked out over a thousand words.
Given that the target for this story is 20-30k, and I’m already up to near 4k in the space of about four days, I’m doing pretty well. The problem is physical tiredness.
If you’ve read my previous blog entries, you’ll know that I often have a problem with insomnia. Me and sleep have had a passing acquaintance in recent months – the situation has improved from where it was in my worst days, but I still have the occasional struggle. I don’t think that’s going to be a problem this evening. I’m at 3893 words on the story at the moment, and I want to break the 4k mark before I go to bed. I’ve even decided to set my alarm for 7am rather than my usual 8am, because I want to get some writing done before work!
I am, however a little worried about burnout. Having finally put Blood and Fang on the market, seeing it sell has given me the impetus to keep pushing. I’m enjoying writing again, which is fantastic, but I don’t want to be at the point where I’m staring at the screen rather than getting words down. I’ve also got to break away my attention slightly so that I can work on the editing/proofing of the second High Moon Rising book, Hungry Mountains. Most of my reading gets done in between calls and on my break at work, but there’s still all the little niggling details I need to sort before it goes online. Thankfully, my wife/editor/boss/all ruling overlady is ready to crack the whip and keep me going.
No, not in a 50 shades way. Stop being filthy.
Anyway, I really should get back to work. Books don’t write themselves, after all!
Don’t let my griping and worrying fool you – I’m loving every minute. This is my dream, and I’m living it.