I decided this morning to heed Adam's advice about not worrying about whether what you're writing fits in the space where you're writing it. I spent my writing time today working on the bikers in the cafe, building in more and better details, more dialogue and inner thoughts, better more vivid descriptions. I'm much happier with what I wrote today. (Thank god, I was getting worried.) And I got my popsicle in mid-afternoon not as a bedtime snack. Better timing.
Line of the day: “Separate checks?” she asked. The one with Fearless Leader on his jacket said, “Naw, it is my turn to buy.” That remark kicked off a round of arguing from the ranks. “You bought last time,” Mud Face said. “No, I did not, you moron, you did,” said Fearless Leader. “I thought it was my turn,” said the one called Road Rash. Black Lightning slapped him on the arm. “You paid when we were in Lucky’s out on highway seventeen, you moron.” “Oh yeah,” he said, rubbing his arm. Fay waited while they hashed out who was paying today and whose turn it was next. Fearless Leader settled the matter. “I am paying today; Splat pays next time. Everybody say it.” Seven voices mumbled, “Splat pays next time.” Dear God, Fay thought, what a bunch of idiots.
Daily total: 1885 words
Running total: 23,143 words
How's everyone doing today? I'm feeling kind of lonely here. Adam, where are you? Jenny, are you sleeping? Bob, are words still falling from the sky? Hello?
--Barbara
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