Word Count Wars

It’s day six of this pseudo-nanowrimo-thingee I talked myself into, and I’ve learned something from it already. Not something about writing, or how to write – but instead, I’ve learned a few lessons about how to work.

I’ve 18 119 words on my novel so far, which is, let me see, um maths, how I hate you, 18 divided by 6, yes – an average of 3000 words a day. Well on track to hit that 50 000 mark by the end of the month, but the strange thing is, that of the last six days, I only spent four of them doing any writing. Two long days where I reached 6000 words, and two only doing half of that.

So what have I learned from this? That the trick to larger daily word counts, is not to do anything much else than write. Well, that should be fine, sure? Writing is the only paid work I do these days, so shouldn’t be a problem. And I want to write more, and I’ve so many ideas that I’ll be writing every day until I die and not complete half of them. So it’s all good.

Except it’s not quite that easy. Here are my reasons why – and you might find you agree with one or two of them.

The reason I’m not out in the world slaving over a day job, is that I have more than one chronic health issue. I tire easily, and I get physically very uncomfortable, even when I take regular breaks. Spending most of my day writing is delightful, and fulfilling, but physically a trial.


I don’t live on my own. I have kids, and despite being teenagers and mostly competent to be left unsupervised, for some strange reason they like my company. ‘Speak to the hand’ does not speak to them.


I’m not earning enough money yet (sigh) to afford a cook and housekeeper. Despite bullying said teenagers, I find their standards continue to be considerably lower than my own. Write for six hours a day, desperately trying to keep up with the laundry and vacuuming while on breaks, then stop to cook the evening meal – and I’m so tired I can barely manage the stairs to bed at the end of the day. If I want to get my other jobs around the house done – ever, I can’t put the long hours writing in. For me, it’s that simple.


Here are the ones you may especially be able to relate to, if you’re a writer as well. Making writing the sole and important focus of the day, can be intimidating. I know I’ve heard of folks out there who write 10-15 000 words a day and still manage an insouciant shrug about it, but while I wish I was them, I’m not. I know on the longer days I’ve put in, I become consumed by the writing and the story, and my brain pretty much refuses to switch off. It’s all story, all writing, all the time. Fun, but exhausting. And when I get up the next day to do it all again, the book has become so all-consuming, that it is no longer just a matter of sitting down and telling a story, it has achieved proportions well above its station in life. It’s gone from just another one of my jobs, to an EVENT. And events demand lipstick and high heels, and fretting about everything being just right.


I write from a place of flow – that peak experience where the two halves of the brain are working together, best mates, turning ideas into language with nimble and nifty acrobatics. It’s the perfect state to write from, and while you’re in its midst, it feels effortless. Except it’s not effortless. It’s an intensely focused mental state, and while it produces great results, it’s hard to sustain hour after hour, day after day. I love almost nothing better than telling stories, writing books, and I rarely think of it as hard work, but it is focused work, and like anything that requires that level of mental effort – it can wear you out.

So, in light of all this, I’m going to re-adjust my expectations of myself when it comes to my writing. Higher word counts might mean more books written, but I’m pretty sure it would also mean one burnt out writer with longer intervals between working. Today I wrote 3000 words and stopped, when I could easily have written more. I was in the middle of a pivotal scene when it hit that mark, but I decided to stop anyway. There were other things I needed to get done around the place. Not just needed to get done, but wanted to. So I did – I let the writing rest, happy that I’d done that much, and feeling good about the story, and I went and pottered around house and garden. And I feel good about that too. In fact, I feel more productive and better rested than I did those two days when I achieved twice as many words on the page. So what if it’s going to take a month or even two to write my novel? I figure that in the long run, a happy writer maintaining a balanced lifestyle is going to produce more work anyway.

Filed under: Writing Journal