Day four, and I need to improve my posture. Hours slaving at the keyboard will leave me with a dowager’s hump. Twenty pages a day, and I’m still on track. How long can I keep up this manic pace? I don’t know. My feeble mind might crack under the pressure.
Since someone asked, this is one hundred pages on the same work. Not on several different works. Because I want to be done with Lightworld/Darkworld for now. The end is in sight, and I’m racing toward it.
I will take the weekend off, and maybe do another hundred pages next week.
Maybe I will write twenty pages a day, forever. And become the most prolific author of all times, next to the sophisticated android that replaced Nora Roberts in the late 80’s.
Oh yes, I will become Troutbot XG-9, and I will travel the galaxies, spewing stories from my internal word processor, and maybe, just maybe I will finally learn to crochet.
