I'm not an overachiever. That's mostly because I bumble around blindly trying to figure out exactly what it is I'm doing. That applies pretty much everywhere in my life. I'm a bumbler. I don't really like to make plans, I just like to do things.
I didn't wake up January 1st with the notion that by June 16th, I'd have two books written. One of them I never, ever came close to planning to write. Remember, I thought I was done with historical romance. Erm, maybe not.
Sunday morning, around 2-ish, I wrote the HFN ending on the first Heckmasters book. I was a hair short of 60k, but not by much. I know where the story needs filling in. I'm on it.
It's weird, finishing two books in two months. And I feel a little guilty because I should've had Wystan's book done last month, you know, if I hadn't been pounding away at The Wrong Brother's Bride, which pretty much blindsided me, because afterward, I didn't want to work on anything. I figured I deserved the break. It made it that much harder to get back into it. I'm not sure if the different genres had something to do with it or not. Am I glad to have it done? Yes. Will I be chomping at the bit to add to the opening I've already written for Eban's book in a few weeks? Yes. I'm 20,000 words from hitting 200,000 words this year already. I have an idea for another historical, but I'm putting it off in hopes of a research trip some time soon. I don't feel like 180k is an over-achievement, just that it was necessary to keep my sanity. Remember how bad I felt last year at this time? I feel like a different person now.
I know for sure that writing two books at once and putting myself on a deadline to finish one of them was bad for my body. My legs cramped, my back hurt. It wanted to move and my brain was all, No, no, no. Finish this! I started walking again this weekend--nowhere exciting, in case you wanted pictures--two miles in the last two days. I know, big mileage there, geez, don't overdo it. I'm positive I'll be ready for two miles a day by next week. Poor, abused body. I already feel better even though it's been so muggy, I come home dripping wet. But it's totally worth it. I'd have done a mile and a half yesterday if not for the dog. Yes, lazy PeeWee said, 'no thank you, Mom, let's go to the car.' Only, in dog-talk, not people talk because I'm not that crazy yet. Little bugger knows where we parked and each time we came around to the parking lot he started casting hopeful glances toward it.
Also yesterday, in lieu of doing anything strenuous, I did some beta reading and sat out on the deck most of the day. My legs are the same color as my t-shirt, a very lovely shade of bright pink. Only the lower halves, because the computer was obviously on my lap. Somehow my forehead and nose caught some light too. Ah, well. It makes up for all the hours under florescent light and no light at all. I did a lot of sitting and pretending I was on the beach, which was kind of difficult as someone was mowing and I kept muttering, "This is the beach, you don't mow sand!" I feel ocean deprived. :(
All right, all right. Monday updates over. I have work to do and scenes to add to the Heckmasters. And also, some more pretending that I'm not stuck in the ocean-less Midwest.