APPARENTLY I didn’t read the directions* and this week is supposed to be the actual first check-in.
Last Check-in Wordcount: 21508
Current WC: 22985. I started the month with 19455. So, since August 1 I have written about 3500 words. I need to pick up the pace to make it to my 15k goal for the month.
WIP Issues this week: Not really an issue with this WIP, per se, but my CPs are reading another MS I was working on and are giving me great feedback on it. Of course that makes me want to go play with the other MS for awhile. (Focus! Focus!)
What I learnt this week in writing: Quick sprints really work! Even in just 20-30 minutes, I can make my 500-words-per-day goal.
What distracted me this week while writing: Still working on the bathroom renovation. And we’ve been pouring all of our spare time into it right now. At least the medicine cabinet is all done, after six (!!) coats of primer and then paint. The drywall got three coats of spackling from both of us before my husband sanded it down. Then I took over again to prime and paint the ceiling and walls, which I finished today. The ceiling needed THREE COATS. Crick is in neck. We still have flooring and wainscoting to install before the fixtures go in.**
Last 200 words: I’m not sure I like this part of the check-in! But here goes:
I was still recovering from the intensity of feeling from our discussion, and couldn’t quite answer even if she’d given me a chance. She didn’t take a breath throughout this one-sided conversation. But pizza did sound good, so I went with it.
Rex and I walked up to the front steps of the school. I stared up the stairs and at the front doors. I’d only been here for a couple of months, and in some ways it was the first place I felt that I belonged. Successful in track, doing well in my classes, making friends. But that was all blown apart when everyone found out about my moms. I hadn’t seen or heard from Claire since Mama had died. The guys I thought were my friends were avoiding me.
I knew that in Natick, I’d be an outcast forever. And, yeah, I didn’t know Mama’s parents at all, but they raised Mama, so they must be okay.
*Just like my mother, who once ended up with extra parts after she had “fully” assembled a piece of furniture from Ikea.
**Sorry. Don’t get me started talking about DIY projects. I really get into it. I could go on even more, but I’ll spare you.