Posted by Jennifer B. at The Writing Cocoon.
...now there's a word. I wouldn't want to meet it in a dark alley during the small hours of the morning. I know it's out there, waiting for me, armed with reproachful stares. That's enough.
The problem with accountability and writing is, there is none. Not really. No one cares if I don't finish my projects. No million dollar deal hangs on my rewrites. Paychecks aren't waiting to be cut. People won't starve if I don't finish my book.
In fact, the only person I have to be accountable to is, well, me. I'm the one who will be disappointed, diminished, and regretful. So it's time to grow up, shape up, get-it-together and all that.
I did lace up my shoes. I did limp through one pathetic mile. The rest of the distance had to be completed on an elliptical, but it was logged. Finally, I did return home, eat a quick dinner, and return to the hot seat. I finished a flash fiction story and started on a second. I put BIC and FOK, and I battled it out.
Time to get serious. I've seven weeks until my race and god-only-knows how many days above ground to develop into a writer. I've toyed with the idea of posting my daily word count here. Maybe I should.
Daily Word Count Goal: 1,000
Daily Word Count Actual: 1,103
Now I can get some sleep.