I wish I could say I've got myself up to where I should be, word count-wise, by now but I can't. I'm giving it a good go but honestly I am pooped. Clearing snow, hauling firewood, caring for my husband...between all that I have been feeling physically, emotionally and mentally drained.
Still...I'm poking along. And you know what? The hour or two I manage to pull out of the day so I can work on Tango at Midnight is, easily, one of the best bits of the day. I feel more myself than almost any other time when I'm writing. Weird, isn't it? But true.
So, my JaNo novel is woefully behind but it is truly bolstering me when I need it most.
Oh? Word count? 14,973...and each word feels like a step toward normalcy in what is a very unusual time for us.