So there. I’m a champ.
This weekend reminds me: I’m on page 134 of my novel (single-spaced, too–the way the lunatics write). A long time ago, when I wrote my first novel, I was on page 144 on my birthday. By July 3rd, I had finished the novel, and it clocked in at a still-unsurpassed 371 pages. I was a sophomore in high school, and I really can’t imagine how I did that. Nearly 20 years later, I’m just a shell of my former self.
Then again, in those days, I could really retreat in my head for entire nights. No distractions, no TV shows on the DVR, no PS3 with fun games to play.
So it goes. I’m writing again, whatever the speed. (Which is not to say I won’t try to hit page 144 by the end of Monday … you know, for fun…)