So far, I've added about 2,500 words to the novel, about the same amount as I wrote yesterday. I've noticed that, little by little, I'm getting more written each day, and I'm taking that as a good sign. I'm also just shy of fifty thousand words, or half of the first draft. Or a third of the way through it, if I'm going to go for 150,000 words in the end.
Either way - half, a third - it's a big ol' chunk of book flesh that I've bitten off, so I'm happy. Not only that, but getting it done in just a few weeks is a pretty nice feeling. If it were November, I'd be kicking NaNoWriMo ass.
Yesterday, I wrote in my back yard. Today, I wrote in my living room right across from my fire place. I didn't have the fire going, but, meh, who cares? I don't know if that's why I'm a little more productive, but who knows?
Now that the new school year is starting and I'm going back to tutoring, I've got this feeling that it might be wiser to do my writing at home. I don't know why. It's just what my gut is telling me. Maybe because I'm in an academic environment at work, I don't want to OD by being at the library for long stretches of time. Maybe I just want to save a few bucks on gas.
Or it might have something to do with the hours. Most libraries don't open until ten, and if I want to get the most out of my day, I have to start earlier. Taking a break to switch locations could result in an unnecessary interruption if I'm writing through a particularly juicy part. That's just my theory, of course. My hypothesis. Perhaps writing at home and the library won't be so bad. I'll try it out tomorrow.