This post isn’t going to be nearly as depressing as its title suggests.
I had plans. Goals. Ideas. I was going to put in a final push and finish this draft of The Novel of Doom by the end of May. Which the astute among you will note was last Monday. I did not finish. So then I was like, “okay, I’ll finish before I go to New York on Sunday.” Which the astute among you will notice is on Sunday. I will not finish. (That’s not said in an Eeyore-tone, it’s just a fact. I can’t write that much that fast.)
So I need a new goal. A feasible one.
I’m really bad at meeting goals. (If you’ve been reading for more than like two months you’ve probably realized this.) Maybe it’s because I’m bad at setting them? I dunno. But I’m going to try again. Because I need to finish the NoD.
I’m thinking I should give myself two more weekends’ worth of time, not counting this weekend because it doesn’t count. I mean, I’m traveling, it won’t really work. Writing on the bus never works for me. And yes I will write during the week but having full days to devote to it will be better.
Midnight June 20. Finished novel. Wha-bam.
Oh hey! June 21 is the first day of summer.
THIS IS A SIGN, PEOPLE. A SIGN.