This week’s goal was 200 words a day, 1400 words total.

This week was a complete FAIL. The only day I wrote was last Friday. I don’t even know what happened. I decided “Weekends off.” Monday was a highly emotionally charged day. A couple days were spent in the library from 6pm-12am, and Wednesday night was spent studying for a test. All lame excuses, but man… I feel pretty upset over my lack of words this week.

February 19: 326
February 20: 0
February 21: 0
February 22: 0
February 23: 0
February 24: 0
February 25: 0
Total: 326 words

Reading total: 61 pages

Weekly Writing Goal:

326 / 1400 words. 23% done!

Yearly Writing Goal:

6991 / 250000 words. 3% done!

Reading goal:

396 / 4500 pages. 9% done!

I should really work on finishing two short stories that have been lingering toward being finished for weeks or months now. I hope that this week I can finish those up, as well as put in some time revising a story I’ve been wanting to rewrite for over a year now. Meh.

Not doing well is good motivation to get back into that daily habit. I think I’ll start that now.

Follow up:

Week 8 Musings… Or rather, musing.

February 19:

A child lay on the floor and watched the pouring rain outside. A frown shaped his tiny lips as he turned his head to look at the toys scattered across the floor beside him. The t-rex lay helplessly on its side; a G.I. Joe was on his back with a hand in the air as if he were praying to the gods during his last dying breath. Legos, race cars, and stuff animals were as lifeless as the child who controlled them.

A tiny sigh escaped his tiny lips, staring dully at the wall across from him. He let his eyes rest there and wistfully dreamed of exciting adventures like the heroes he watched on television.
As he stared and stared, eyes unblinking and mind emptying, something moved in the periphrial. The boy blinked and looked around for the source of the movement. It happened again, but he could not move his eyes fast enough to catch what it was. The movement he couldn’t see elongated, and he saw the edges of the floor roll like grass in the wind. Every time he tried to look at it directly, the surface would flatten deceptively. The determined boy found a spot on the wall across from him - an outlet - and fixed his eyes upon it. The floor began to roll again, long waves taking shape out of the hardwood floor. As the wooden waves got bigger, soon the floorboard lifted and descended with the floor adjacent to it. The boy could feel his body being lifted with each small wave he didn’t see, guiding his feet upward. His back rolled up as his feet rolled down, feeling as if he were the hull of a ship in a huge sea. The waves were rhythmic yet unpredictable, and the boy giggled.
“What are you doing in there?” His mother called from another room.
“Nothing,” the boy called back sheepishly. The waves were gone, but his body still swayed.