More writing news…

you don’t care about.

By some time last week, I had thrown together over 160 pages; a number that was steadily creeping higher. And then it dawned on me, more bulk, while arguably more impressive, is just more content to polish, more content to defend, more content to get criticised on and such—it’s generally more of a pain.

The week since, I’ve brought it down to 143 and that number is steadily creeping downward.

Dead ends

After much futzing around, I finally managed to schedule my final defence. It’s on October 10, in the afternoon; a whole two days before I turn 27.

Writing has begun to pick up since that bit of news was finalised. Which means I’ve been writing properly for a grand total of one day.

Further scheduling and logistical details as they emerge.

Do you game?

Progress in qualitative terms (number of pages per day?) has been slow. But there is something else going on which I can only explain with a gaming analogy.

You know those games where, at later points, the story-line leads you back to levels you’ve already crossed? You know that feeling you get when you—now equipped with much stronger weaponry and vastly-improved skill—return to those areas you once slaved through, now to just demolish the opposition with surprising prowess?

That’s kinda how it’s been, revisiting just about anything from the years passed. And that’s fucking awesome.