That honestly came to my mind today. Because I do a lot of active non-writing, in the form of voracious reading, moleskine note-writing, and research about things that are going to play into the themes of my novel.
And then I had this horrible/wonderful thought, which was, what if my complete happiness at Simmons means that I have finally found my purpose in life (wonderful)? And what if that purpose is to be a bibliophile, an educator, a scholar, and an advocate (horrible?)? It is actually very settling to know that I know I’m headed in the right direction, and even though I have a lot of self improvement to work on before and after I get to Boston, I feel more stable than I have in a long time.
But not being a writer is unacceptable. So damnit, the not writing is stopping today. Today the word counting begins. I’m at 8057 in chronological chapters, plus some out of order scenes and bits make the total 9322. That’s nearly 10,000. And a book could be 80,000 words. So I’m nearly 1/8 of the way through. Easy peasy. So let’s go.