I started off well today … no, actually, I didn’t. I woke up late did that writer thing of finishing breakfast and rolling straight into lunch and didn’t sit down to write until about 13.30.
Still, it’s 02.30 now, so I’ve done a good 13 hours writing.
Apart from tea breaks, dinner, supper, afternoon snack and the odd snuggle with Mandy.
Which probably means a good 10 hours work.
Unless I deduct time for browsing the web, faffing about and other general procrastination.
Which I’m not going to.
The first half of my writing day seemed to go quite well: 14 pages, taking me up to page 58; but … that only took me up to the green and blue card in the centre of the second row.
One card further on than yesterday.
That can’t be right.
That means it’ll be about 70-odd pages up to the mid-point.
That’s really not right.
So I went back to the beginning and hacked like a motherfucker.
If you don’t know how a motherfucker hacks, ask one.
8 pages I hacked out.
Which left my new daily total at 6 pages.
Furiously onward did I scribble, bashing out another 7 pages.
And then immediately deleted one of them.
Scribble, scribble, manic scribble.
Until I closed on page 63.
I’m at the mid-point now – the centre (ish) of the film.
The third act, as mentioned yesterday, will be short. Which puts the probable length at 110 pages – my worst case scenario.
I can’t bear to do the math.
28 pages written, 9 hacked out – 19 pages further on than yesterday.
That means I probably have to write 47 pages on Sunday.
I’m not working tomorrow, no matter what happens. Sunday, Sunday is going to be the testing ground.
Place your bets ladies and gentlemen, place your bets.