It’s not looking good. Day ten and I should be around 17,000 words when I’m at 3,721. Still, there is time. Time to recover – if I don’t bother working… or breathing… or – you get the drift.
Here, to add to my utter shame (wail at the self flagellation) is another view.
Either I will or I won’t. As I write I’m not that bothered, though I am well aware I can’t leave it a lot longer if I’m to get my mojo on. What the hell is mojo, anyway?