Today has been just like yesterday, except much longer and not nearly as good. There was a time, a happy, yesterday kind of a time, when I grew to like my writing, and thought that my novel was going to be brilliant. It was all inventive and funny and well-written and stuff. What a boob I was back then.
Spinning out of bad day of work, I've felt somewhat dejected and sick feeling. Which has almost certainly come out in my writing. I've written nearly as many words as I did yesterday, but I can't help but feel that they're probably a bit lifeless and drawn out.
I dunno, maybe I'm just no good at the set up parts. Maybe it'll get better once my story really kicks off (is it OK to have written six thousand words without much having happened yet? I'm not sure).
Today, my graph of writing life is very much a frowny face. Still, word count wise, I'm about 12% of the way through the month already! Clever Rhysy
Current word count: 6065