Today was entirely given up to writing, and I feel pretty great about it. I woke up around 6:30 (horrifying) and started writing at seven, and I proceeded to write off and on in blocks of an hour or two for most of the day. I got twelve pages for my efforts, but they were hard fought; I also did some research on privateers, which was critical for knowing where to go next with the story. And I had lunch at my favorite breakfast place, bought a dress, came home and wrote some more, went out to get coffee and write in a new location, came back and made supper (chicken skewers and greek salad).
Tonight was supposed to be my night off, but my plans ended up reworking themselves - which was probably for the best, since I wanted to write today and tomorrow and will do better if I take tomorrow night off instead. So I'm going to go to bed now and indulge my hermity mood so that I can write another twelve or fifteen pages tomorrow - goodnight!
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