Word Count: Unchanged

I was reading about the mystical experiences of Plotinus in Leszek Kolakowski's rubbish popular philosophy book: 'Why is there something rather than nothing.' This has been my toilet reading book for the last month or so. Now I am on the last chapter I may leave it in there and put it to a decent use. Anyway, the mystical experience stuff gave me an idea that may reinvigorate my abandoned time-travelling schoolgirl novel, 'The dial's shady stealth.' If my word count suddenly jumps to about twelve thousand it is probably because I have returned to working on that.

Word Count: Unchanged

I woke up at four o'clock today. That's late even by my standards. I slept through my eleven and one o'clock alarms. Must be time for a new ringtone. Still the hour went forward at the weekend so it was three o'clock really. I give myself a fortnight before that excuse wears thin. Anyway no time to work on the novel today as I have to have my dinner (cottage pie) for breakfast and go straight to work an evening shift at the Temple. I hand over the money for the new house tomorrow and move in on Sunday. Packing is so boring that I may actually write something this week just to avoid doing it. I do intend to start putting in some serious hours writing once installed in the new abode. Mind you, I said that six months ago when I moved in here... but this time I mean it.

Word Count: Unchanged

With all the house-hunting partying online pokering and sleeping in til two every day, a month has slipped by without me even opening Word. So much for a thousand words a day. A thousand words a month seems to be my average. Guess my feeling of guilt lasted about two days. It does seem to be the best motivator I have experienced. If only I wasn't so good at ignoring it, I'm certain I'd get a lot more done.

Glad to see I've picked up a new follower (despite not publishing any posts) Hello Hanski - whoever you might be - any chance that you and the mysteriously photographless 'Chris' could make me feel guiltier?

Much appreciated.

Word Count: 2307

Finally an afternoon's work I am satisfied with. The day didn't start well. I slept until one (which isn't that unusual) but felt strangely motivated after breakfast. Also, I haven't got any money and writing, if nothing else, is a cheap way to entertain yourself.

I think the new found motivation comes from the feeling of guilt that auntie Andree's recent visit instilled. She has always been really supportive of my hobby. Reading my work and offering criticism. But I had to tell her I had not really written anything (except ugly poems about infidelity) since Katy left me.

Word Count: Unchanged

It occurs to me that maybe I should do more than one thing a day.

Word Count: Unchanged

Excuses for not writing this week have included: Working at the pub Friday and Saturday; pub quiz Sunday; Uncle Alan and Auntie Andree visiting Norwich today. Excuses for not writing next week are likely to include: House hunting tomorrow; Chris's birthday Wednesday; back to work Thursday.

Word Count: Unchanged

I have decided, after three days of no progress and two late nights at Havana Bar, that maybe I don't know how to write a novel. Maybe my early failures are due to my method of starting at the beginning and ploughing on through until either the plot makes no sense or I become bored with the idea. Maybe. Still, here is where I have an advantage over other failed prospective writers. I live with two successful writers. Chris and Kate both have MAs in creative writing from UEA. Chris makes a living as a writer, translator and teacher of English and Kate's first novel is due to be published in November. I'll ask them them how they battle through these early stages. Sage advice awaits, I'm certain.