Whew. I was a little worried.

Today I was more nervous than I was yesterday, which doesn't diminish how nervous I was yesterday. I was shaking and moaning nervous today.

I typed a paragraph, and then I deleted it and cursed myself for ever contemplating writing a novel. I reminded myself that even my grocery lists had been shabby and lacking in imagination recently. I also informed myself that no one liked me and that everyone who pretended to like me was just trying to get my money. Then I remembered that I have no money, so I became more nervous because it occured to me that the only reason, other than money, that people would pretend to like me was because they belonged to a black market ring that sold body parts. Maybe these back-stabbers were really going to stab me in the back! And remove my kidney!

Then I stared at the blank screen. And stared. And stared.

Then I typed another line or two. And deleted them. And called myself several names that I won't repeat. And threatened to hire a hit man to run over me with a banana truck if I didn't write something half-way decent before Tim came home with the baby.

Then I wrote another paragraph. And another one. And they weren't too terrible. They weren't terrible at all, really. Well, maybe a couple were stinkers, but I let them stay because I was running low on time, and I wanted to reach my quota.

And that's the end of that story. My grand total for two days (about five hours) is 3506 words.

And I like this line:

My first thought upon seeing all of these successful Fladger Parsonses was that some names are just better than others.