I didn’t take very long to finish my word quota today, and with my spare time, I decided to go back over the plan and see how the second half of the book is holding up against it.

Despite my misgivings about becoming a planner for this exercise, it proved to be a good idea, particularly when you have to write a certain number of words a day to reach the target.

Last year, it was a pantser effort, and I know, at times, I struggled with continuity and found myself having to backtrack when plot changes required earlier intervention.

Writing as a pantzer is much more viable when you have a much longer time to write the story, like a whole year, because I find I sometimes get only so far, and I need to think about the next step.

Today I’ve taken the time to translate all of the notes for the forthcoming chapters into a bound notebook, with several pages for each of the chapters, allowing for a number of possible later changes.

I now feel I’m in a better place to continue.

I didn’t take very long to finish my word quota today, and with my spare time, I decided to go back over the plan and see how the second half of the book is holding up against it.

Despite my misgivings about becoming a planner for this exercise, it proved to be a good idea, particularly when you have to write a certain number of words a day to reach the target.

Last year, it was a pantser effort, and I know, at times, I struggled with continuity and found myself having to backtrack when plot changes required earlier intervention.

Writing as a pantzer is much more viable when you have a much longer time to write the story, like a whole year, because I find I sometimes get only so far, and I need to think about the next step.

Today I’ve taken the time to translate all of the notes for the forthcoming chapters into a bound notebook, with several pages for each of the chapters, allowing for a number of possible later changes.

I now feel I’m in a better place to continue.

I’d like to say I have a cunning plan, but I don’t.

I’m happily working on the final part of part two, and have just completed two of the three chapters. It was going to be two only, but I’ve found that I need one more. The section is still on the revised plan, though a little longer from fleshing out the plotline.

It reads well, but by the time it’s finished, it will change the start of the third section, which I was outlining, and going back to it, the pages now have lots of scribbles on scribbles and crossings out.

Editing the first and second sections as separate parts had crystallised how the start of the third will proceed, and I find myself going over the outline for later chapters and discovering holes I missed the first time through that can now be filled.

And surprisingly, I have a very clear idea of what will be in the last section, and, in fact, I’ve almost worked it through in my head. I think one night I’ll probably sit up and edit what I have already before it all disappears. I’m sure you all know that feeling when the words are there in your head, and you can almost see them.

Until you wake up and it’s all gone.

I’d like to say I have a cunning plan, but I don’t.

I’m happily working on the final part of part two, and have just completed two of the three chapters. It was going to be two only, but I’ve found that I need one more. The section is still on the revised plan, though a little longer from fleshing out the plotline.

It reads well, but by the time it’s finished, it will change the start of the third section, which I was outlining, and going back to it, the pages now have lots of scribbles on scribbles and crossings out.

Editing the first and second sections as separate parts had crystallised how the start of the third will proceed, and I find myself going over the outline for later chapters and discovering holes I missed the first time through that can now be filled.

And surprisingly, I have a very clear idea of what will be in the last section, and, in fact, I’ve almost worked it through in my head. I think one night I’ll probably sit up and edit what I have already before it all disappears. I’m sure you all know that feeling when the words are there in your head, and you can almost see them.

Until you wake up and it’s all gone.

I’m in the middle of writing a new chapter, one that goes back a little in time, but helps set up events that occur later towards the end.

And true to form, it’s going a little off track.

There is scope for it to be a pivotal point in the story, but it’s not quite working out that way.

I’m doing this while I’m waiting for my usual Friday grandchild collection from school. Here I have to get here a half hour before pick up time to get a favourable position in the queue.

So it’s a good time to do some editing.

And it’s where I work on one of my stories, matched to a photo as inspiration.

Not today.

There are pressures in getting the NaNoWriMo project finished, and it’s getting away from me.

This part was not as easy as I hoped, so back to the job. Hopefully, there will be better news tomorrow

I’m in the middle of writing a new chapter, one that goes back a little in time, but helps set up events that occur later towards the end.

And true to form, it’s going a little off track.

There is scope for it to be a pivotal point in the story, but it’s not quite working out that way.

I’m doing this while I’m waiting for my usual Friday grandchild collection from school. Here I have to get here a half hour before pick up time to get a favourable position in the queue.

So it’s a good time to do some editing.

And it’s where I work on one of my stories, matched to a photo as inspiration.

Not today.

There are pressures in getting the NaNoWriMo project finished, and it’s getting away from me.

This part was not as easy as I hoped, so back to the job. Hopefully, there will be better news tomorrow

The Maple Leafs are playing, and so I thought I would juggle watching them play and work on my NaNoWriMo project at the same time.

It seemed like a good way to get in 3 hours of work and a little entertainment on the side.

But…

First period down, and the Maple Leafs are 2 goals down.

What I first thought was going to be easy is now becoming mission impossible.

After the second Philadelphia goal, Chester, my stalwart anti-everything cat, comes down to see what the commotion is.  By that I mean, almost yelling at the TV screen.

A lot of good that’s going to do when they’re 12,000 miles away on the other side of the world.

And by the look on Chester’s face, I think he thinks it’s a waste of time too.  Or maybe that’s his usual, I don’t give a $%^^%$ expression he has most of the time.

We have the Philadelphia feed, so we’re getting the joy from the intermission analysts at their team’s lead, but it does take me back to Philadelphia when we were there a few years back, when America was worth visiting, when they cut to shots of the city.

And, of course, instead of having my eyes on the story, I’m now thinking of a subplot, yes, you guessed it, in Philadelphia, which is not very far from New York, where the main action takes place.

Then…

We score.  It’s now a more respectable scoreline, but Anderson has his work cut out for him, and I’m thinking of turning off the sound because I don’t want to hear any more praise for their young stars.

The story proceeds, taking out the outline pages and looking to see where it can fit in.  Yes, I see a gap where I can fit in an interlude and scribble a few notes.

End of the second period.  Still 2 goals to 1 down.

Start of the third period.  Chester decided to jump up on the table and, seeing the pencil sitting there, started to push it around with his paw. I snatch it away, and he gives me a chastising swipe.

Blast him, while my attention was diverted, we score again, and I missed it.  Thank heavens for the replay.  Over and over.

I finish the notes for the interlude, and the game ends in a draw.  We now move to overtime.

I get the first few lines of the chapter I began working on at the start of the game, and just as the words are flowing, overtime ends with no score, and we go into a shootout.  And before you know it, the game’s over, and we’ve lost.

I swear, Chester is smirking, so I pick him up and put him on the floor with a very stern admonishment.

No, I’m not taking the loss badly, but there are a few bad guys about to die horribly.