Days Writing: 10
New Words: 3060
New Chapters: 0.7
Total Word-count: 50,146
Total Chapters: 14
With July I decided to do things a bit differently. I got rid of tracking partial days and full days, I got rid of minimum amount to work each day, and I just made it a simple commitment to do something on my novel every day.
And, for the first half of the month, things went quite well. I wasn’t getting every single day, but I was getting more than half, and I was on track to have my best month since January. Then, in the second half, I once again stopped working altogether.
I feel more okay with my lack of productivity for this month than I did for May or June. Things have been very strained these past few weeks, with us getting our house up on the market, preparing to move, and an intense deadline being thrust on my team at work.
It’s difficult to decide the balance of “just get something done, anything, no matter how chaotic the rest of the day has been” and “have some understanding, it’s okay to get less done during hectic days.”
But rather than dwell on what didn’t get done, I want to relish the first part of the month where I was really working on the story. It felt so good. I feel like my changes in how to approach the work removed all of the stress, and left the pure enjoyment of it instead. I’ve craved that these past couple weeks, and want to get right back to it.
So I’m going to keep that same format for August, and hopefully I’ll be able to find a little more time in the nooks and crannies of each day.
Before I head out, here’s a little snippet from my work this month. Enjoy!
“Oh look, there’s some new flowers over there!” Clara suddenly points excitedly to a small cluster of black morning glories perched on the slope that rises on the other side of their stream. They grace a particularly steep portion of that incline, crowning a sheer, rocky outcropping that presses out of the green growth that otherwise makes up the hillside.
“Oh…” Clara says slowly as she regards the precarious position. “We don’t have to get those ones…if you don’t want to.”
Eleanor’s eyes narrow.
“I hadn’t expected you to be scared off so easily, Clara.”
“What? No, I’m not scared, I just–“
“It’s alright. You just wait here where it’s nice and safe and hold my bag.” Eleanor hands Clara the sack and then begins to ascend the hill. She goes up the gentle-sloping side until she is about level with the flowers, then moves sideways to the rocky face. The flowers’ ledge is a little more than two feet higher than her feet now, so she grips the rock face with her left hand, stretches her left foot up to plant it on the rocky shelf, then firmly swings the rest of herself up and onto the ledge. A few moments later and she has plucked a few of the flowers’ finest representatives.
Getting off the ledge is a somewhat trickier matter, though, as now she must step down onto the slanted surface of the hill. Clara sees her mother’s hesitation and quickly scrambles up the hill to be beside her.
“Here,” Clara says, “take my hand.”
“And send us both rolling down the hill?”
“I’ll be firm.”
Clara plants her feet squarely, and keeps her hand out until Eleanor concedes. The maneuver is made simply enough, and the two quickly ascend to the top of the incline.
“Weren’t you frightened, mother?”
“But—but then why did you go up there in the first place?”
“Because you thought I was frightened.”
“But you just said that you were! And I knew you were the whole time, even though you pretended not to be!”
Clara’s tone is frustrated and chiding, and Eleanor cannot help but laugh.
“I’m sorry, Clara, you’re absolutely right. It was silly of me, but…well, I don’t know…I suppose it’s just a hard thing for a parent to let their child know when they need help.”
“Well…as long as you know that it’s silly!”