Looking down at my handy black notebook, I see today’s writing goal of 59500 words. My end goal is 65000, which feels whopping to me. Though I’m afraid, with the way I write with inner monologue a plenty, I can easily edit out 10k excess words, meaning I’ll have to make up 10k more! When does it end?

My Golden Egg Academy workshop is on Saturday so I’m aiming to finish my first YA manuscript this week before I get on that Virgin train to London. (So you ask, why are you writing this blog post then??) The day I sent Lukas back to school, 6 September, was the day I had to get cracking. I was at 38616 words. I did my daily calculations which brought me to around 1200 words a day for the month of September. I did so well! Then last week struck. I was beginning to feel like I was losing myself because I was constantly trying to be in the mind of a teenager. Retail therapy was in order. So I went to Gap Outlet and bought a few items of clothing that would be perfect for my day job of writing and other stuff. When I got home, I wasn’t ready to return to the laptop. The urge to purge struck.

Four bags of clothes in the boot later, I was feeling a bit like myself again. I found the courage to get rid of three of my favourite items of clothing that had seen their day: green velvet Calvin Klein double breasted jacket, black cashmere LL Bean hoodie, and leopard print flannel pj bottoms from Old Navy. I’d wear them all together if I didn’t mind being one of those mums who wore pyjamas on the school run. Clothes sometimes becomes a thing of holding onto the past more than wearability.

But, see? I digress. That’s what my junior year high school teacher used to say all the time after a 20 minute tangent. As students, we’d all be like, that’s okay, got us off discussing Shakespeare for 1/3 of the class!

Back to my writing. If I hit my goal today, then I can up my outtake to 1375 words a day through Friday. Then voila! First draft, “done.” Being in the last 10k of my story, though, I’m finding I’ve got a few meaty scenes to write. The big crescendo, the final kiss (spoiler alert?), a brawl perhaps, a broken ankle maybe? How big is too big?

Then, as my “reward” for finishing the first draft, I promised hubby I would take a week off from writing and do some painting in the house. The reward is more for the family than myself, isn’t it? The neglected household. Laundry and writing, I can handle together. But anything else? Well, just don’t look inside the oven.