I wasn't going to tell anyone this.
I was going to keep this to myself.
Because of the shame.
I have a special relationship with books.
Most of you know what I mean.
I also have a special relationship with libraries.
I now have a lot of guilt and I keep thinking the next time I go they will take away my library card.
I'm sure, somehow, I will pay for this 'sin' down the road.
Why did I commit such a horrible deed?
Well...In my head I can still hear the comments/suggestions from the person that I let read the first few chapters of my book. I wanted to see how far off the mark I really was with just a few of the problems that they noted.
I went to the library the other day and bought a used Nora Roberts paperback.
And I wrote in it with a pen and I used a highlighter.
I have to live with it, I know.
But I took notes and calculated word counts and checked point of view and highlighted adjectives....stuff like that.
Now, let me say this...I am not comparing myself or my writing to Nora Roberts. Please. I would never insult her in such a manner.
What I am saying is that - technically - teeny tiny bit similar. Considering she is probably the author that I have read the most works from, I wouldn't be surprised that my writing is similar.
I just wanted to get the facts. I like facts. They're factual.
Now I can let it go.
Wrote a few pages this morning. Not too much but I got the ball rolling. I will have to go back and smooth out right after the kiss scene. It was a little awkward for them and me!
I remember reading a blog a while ago and the author talked about trying to write 5 pages a day. Someone else recently mentioned trying to write 1000 to 1500 words a day. I suppose if I tried to average it out I could come up with a number but I don't think I write consistently enough to bother.
Some days I write a lot, some days I edit, some days I write a little, some days I delete.
Some days I spend too long on my blog or too much time reading other blogs and I should be folding laundry and doing dishes.