Day Thirteen

Day thirteen was... day thirteen. I backed up my novel, and eked out my wordcount during another interminable train journey. I'm currently developing the character of the victim's mother, and she is surprising me a little -- she embodies a kind of commentary about the kind of king Arthur is.

Too bad this chapter is badly overwritten and probably needs chucking, when I edit.

In lieu of more interesting content, here, an article I liked on inclusionary writing.

Day Fourteen

It is that part of NaNoWriMo where I feel tired. I want my life back. I want to read, or go out for dinner, or... anything other than write and do work for class. I'm getting an ache in my back that yoga can't quite unkink, whenever I sit down to write.

Still, I'm keeping on with it. I always do.

If you were going to read relaxing children's/YA lit, would you go for Garth Nix or Eoin Colfer, right now? I've been meaning to get round to both, and it could be a nice break for my poor brain...