Friday's Word Count:
0 (c. 1, draft)Saturday's Word Count:
0 (c. 1, draft)Sunday's Word Count:
175 (c. 1, draft)Sample Text:
[Lance] careened up to the counter, knapsack swinging from one hand like a wrecking ball as he fumbled for his wallet. He slapped down a copy of Manalive: On Crater Station and a couple of crumpled bills, jittering in place as Doyle retrieved his change from the cashbox. "Thanks," he said, adding over his shoulder. "Sorry, Sage, gotta run. See you!"Week five word counts are all zilch, again -- nothing but backbone for scene 4, but thankfully I've got a complete outline now. I'm beginning to feel like Jane Austen, snatching moments to write in between the duties imposed by society. What the person sitting next to me on the trolley every morning thinks I'm about is beyond me, really.