Who's the daddy?

Get in - ninety thousand words!
Put out the bunting, ring the church bells and bring on the dancing girls!

Do I win a prize?

Back in the saddle

At last, after about two weeks, I've finally returned to the novel - passed the 89,000 word mark today!
Anyone who writes and uses word processing software will probably have developed the same obsession I have with the word count. It takes on an importance out of all proportion to its actual usefulness. It becomes a game, picking a figure and trying to get past it. Like today, I made myself get past 89,000 before I could go and get come lunch.
And I keep checking the count every few minutes.
When you get past a major milestone, like say the upcoming 90,000 word mark, you find yourself punching the air in celebration and whooping like a deranged gibbon. At least, I do. Possibly it might be the result of some sort of chemical imbalance. Or maybe I just don't get out often enough.
I so need to find myself a life...
Maybe when I've finished this novel. If only there wasn't another dozen or so queued up right behind it. Should keep me going for the next twenty years or so!
Not to mention the rewrites I'll need to do - this is meant to be a hobby but it's ended up being harder work than my job!

Getting nowhere fast...

From a writing point of view, in the last two weeks I have achieved
almost nothing.
True, I've moved house and started a new job, but I even bearing that
in mind my activity has been minimal. The PlayStation hasn't been
unpacked and there's no internet connection to distract me so you'd
think that it would be the ideal time to get some writing done, to get
stuck into the final stretch of my current novel.
But no, there's been nothing, nada, zero, zip.
My motivation is seriously flagging.
And I miss my sofa, and my bed (they're still in my previous house),
and the internet. Only posting this via a sneaky email from work!