I've been workin' on the railroad.

I hit a wall today. My story was just dragging on and on and not going anywhere. I didn't know what to do because, though I have a general idea of where I'm going, I have no idea how to get there. So I remembered the tactic that I used as a kid when I was doing those mazes that are always on paper placemats in restaurants. I went to the end. I figured, words is words. It doesn't matter where they're coming from as long as they belong in the story. The method did assuage my general sense of boredom and frustration, though it still wasn't a joy ride. How is it that something that works so well in your mind can be so difficult to capture on paper? If I were an inventor genius, I would create a telepathic transcriber that would tapatapatap what was in my head directly into the word processor. That would be fantastic.

I hit a grand total of 8335 words today between 9 am and 10:46. Maybe I'll just write the novel 1700 words at at time from the end to the beginning. I'll just start at some random point towards the end and write until I've reached my quota. Then the next day I'll try to write up until the beginning of the previous day within the space of 1700 or so words. I still stand by the great and terrible Quota. I wouldn't have made it this far without the necessary fear of failure and damnation that it instills in me.

Least horrible line of the day:

“No easy way? No easy way to say that you’re dumping me? Hello? I am dangling from the ceiling in a full body cast. Can you not see how wrong that is?"