...and being dyslexic, usually only bad things happen when I combine tired + writing.
I did a lot yesterday. Hardly any of it was writing.
Honestly, I could have just crashed/gone to bed I was so wiped, but instead I built an enormous fire* in the fireplace (one of the few good things about the witch's hut), hunkered down on the sofa with the evil black cat (who promptly fell asleep and began squeek-snoring), and I opened 'Brake Fluid'.
I... tore chapter 12 apart about three times, splitting up scenes, moving chunks around, re-wording confusing bits, and cleaning up/adding to the lean portions.
In two hours, I only added about 400 words.
Then, as I was wavering on the edge of too-tired-to-see-keyboard-clearly, I decided exactly where to split a scene, inserted the triple-stars (which, sadly, are included in word count), and before my brain could catch up and realize what it was doing... I'd written 111 words of a new scene.
Of a plot point that didn't previously exist.
Which is exactly what I needed 'cause I'd pretty much written to the end of what I knew and had no idea where this thing was headed**.
Well, other than the whole matter of dumping the body, but that's kind of a given.
...now I'm so excited to keep writing that I'm temped to break one of the cardinal *rules* of going away (no laptops).
Now I need to rush around like crazy to catch a ferry off this island :)
I hope you all have a wonderful weekend! ...any exciting plans? how many of you are going to hole yourself up with your keyboard and write?
*I have a... slightly unhealthy love of fire. Thankfully, I've also got common sense and a fire extinguisher.
**Don't panic. I rarely know where things are going, in writing, and in life. Let's just blame it on the blonde hair, okay?