Focusing on fiction every Friday has been my longstanding practice, but lately my fiction focus has flowed into nearly every other day.
And something else has been flowing. Since mid-May, I’ve logged an astounding 67,000 words of fiction writing. Okay, so it’s only been 66,926 words as of this moment. But the day is young.
And those fiction words were written in addition to thousands of other words meeting deadlines for paying work, crafting documents for volunteer positions, and communicating with friends and relatives. I’ve also invested hours in editing projects and a significant nonfiction collaboration.
I must admit that during this time frame, I’ve barely blogged or journaled and I’ve missed an appointment as well as a meeting, but–hey–you can’t have everything.
In my most recent (a relative term referring to May 9) Friday post about my fiction writing, I wrote that Matt was back. In January, I shared how I’d picked up this juvenile fiction series after an almost five-year hiatus. Because I didn’t write much fiction during the first part of this year, my almost 67,000 words since mid-May amazes me in many ways.
It’s as if God lifted his hand from my chest (you can read about that expression from Larry Woiwode here) and pressed it against my back, propelling me forward at break-neck (perhaps better, break-finger) speed.
I’ve completed the first two novels and I have less than 20,000 words left in the last one. I’ve already written the final three chapters, which I love. I simply must bring this kid from about the middle of the book to that end.
So now you know what I’ve been doing since mid-May. And now, back to my regularly scheduled program of focusing on fiction.