Friday I had a GREAT writing day — I cranked out a lot of words; there was a discernible beginning, middle, and end to what I wrote; it was even marginally funny. I also got some healthy revenge and bitchiness in, so that was satisfying.
Yesterday and today have been tediously non-productive. I did produce a fair number of words today, but big deal. I might as well have used a random word generator. Anything salvageable? I doubt it — maybe a phrase or two clinging to the flotsam. It was frustrating and not much fun.
On the plus side, I did end up today way out in the country at a southern covered dish Sunday dinner — outdoors, on picnic tables between this tiny church and its cemetery (both Confederate AND Union together), on a glorious warm and sunny day. Chicken and dumplings, fried chicken, fried okra, collards, turnips, deviled eggs, corn bread, corn pudding, hams, sweet potatoes, stuff with little marshmallows in it, sausages, crowder peas, lima beans. Oh my. Followed by pecan pie, blueberry cobbler, and a delicious lemon pound cake that couldn’t possibly have been made with 7 -up, but that’s what they said was in it. It’s a good thing I only eat like that once or twice in a lifetime.
So I wrote a description of the day and threw it into my novel, where it doesn’t fit, but it does add to the word count. I’m really impressed that this little church had two back to back ministers, one of whom fought in the Confederate army, one in the Union. Now that could be an interesting story to tell.
Right now it feels like my writing is solely focused on upping my word count. Hope you’re doing better than that.