Day 5: Dismal failure…or was it?

I failed. Or, I succeeded. I guess it depends largely upon how you look at it.

I didn't write a novel this week, nor did I come close. There were two main reasons for this: firstly, the kids left the house in such a mess that I feared a toxic waste sewer would soon form and flood out of their rooms. Secondly, there was the system shock of being alone in my house. All quiet. All day. No one yelling. No one crying. No one hitting the other. No one squeezing their wounds in an attempt to produce blood, thereby being able to open my office door (since the rule of the closed door is: if there's no blood, I don't want to speak to you).

I do know that I'm significantly more productive in the evening than in the morning. This is unfortunate, since that's about the only true bit of peace that I have two days a week.

I also know that I crave routine. A little shake up now and then is good for the system, but I like to know where my personal time is going to land by knowing what day of the week it is.

And, let's face it, I finished two scenes that I'd partially written months ago AND I finished 2 completely new scenes. I figure this is progress and anytime words get added to the work-in-progress, it's a good thing. I also went back over the partial manuscript and drew up a new outline for it, rearranged some chapters, and re-read what was there to make the bridging a little smoother. It will still need a full edit, but at least what's there is what will be staying. So, it's not even throw away words: word count for the sake of word count.

Overall, I'm pleased that I got some writing in and that I have a scrubbed clean house for the weekend. And when the routine returns on Monday, I'll be ready to get back into the swing of things.