So, last week while I was sick, I got virtually no writing done. Rather than beat myself up about it, I think I’ll just be sensible and extend my personal novel-in-90 timeline by a week. That feels like cheating, but… screw it. Stress is one of the things (probably THE thing) messing with my health; I don’t need to be adding to it.
This week, there was writing. Not quite enough, and not very good, but some. I’m definitely losing steam here.
Only two weeks to go. I can hang on that long. I think. Whether I can find my way to the end of the story, or whether I just give up and kill my entire cast in a hail of gunfire, remains to be seen.
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