Yup. It is Sunday again. Not like it matters much. Day counting is useful and annoying.
Oh no, it is Monday again. Wohoo, it’s Friday. Wednesday the middle of the week. See? Annoying. We have been trained to live and work like this. Is it normal?
When I was working day and night shifts, both morphed together. The same happens when working from home. If there is no necessity to count days they disappear. The only reminders are external sources.
I’ve been spoiled by the clock tower. It begins to ring its bell from 5am till 11pm (I think). Every hour. I just need to count the bells. No need for an alarm or clock. Sometimes I miss the 5am bell. I’m a human, you know.
Why am I talking about time again? To make sense of a mushy brain. Not so mushy, actually. Just writing nonsense to see where my mind will go. Might keep it short. I have a novel to write.
Up till know I did some plotting to find the story. Got the big beats. Don’t have the beginning, yet. I know that I could start anywhere. I’m stubborn and I want to start from the beginning. Thus I’m killing time while my subconsciousness is searching for it. Then it’s writing time. Hopefully.
I could’ve pantsed it, however I already began to build the world, sooo finding the plot points fell in naturally. It seems I might be a mix of pantser and plotter afterall. We’ll see the truth by the end of the month. I keep forgetting that it is only the first draft. Hundred more will follow.
And there goes time. Not to mention I pushed to 60k words so that it is easier to put the structure in. And to make it more like a novella. Plus to be completely sure that the word count is right. Ah, the dedication.
Alright. The post will be this short. I’ll go and find that beginning.