9,703 Words...

Tonight I used one of the tools from 'The Writer's Toolbox',a timer. I used it to make myself write for extended periods of time. One of my problems this year has been my crippling self-doubt and inability to kick out the inner editor. The editor has to go.

The timer helped a lot. Not that it necessarily made my writing better, but it made me stop worrying about it as much. I have also made a promise to myself that I don't have to let anyone read it if I don't want to. I am still slowly getting caught up from the weekend's deficit. I was 700 words short, now, just under 300. For some reason I decided to write the same scene twice from two different character's perspectives. This bolsters word count, but does nothing to advance the plot.

Here is an excerpt where I blatantly ripped off Katie. It is written from Tim's perspective. He called AJ Torres 'Scruffy', because he doesn't yet know his name, and because AJ has one of those carefully groomed, contrived, 'scruffy' looks, like Colin Farrell, pictured above. BTW- Katie, the bartender is Caleb Danvers.

Here's the excerpt:
Hope approached the bar on the opposite side and leaned in to talk to the unusually good looking bartender. Whatever she said, the bartender laughed and nodded, moving away. When he did, Hope caught sight of Tim, and she froze, staring. Music began to play. The bartender had turned the radio back on, playing something un-notable and inoffensive. Tim listened more closely, and realized it was actually one of his favourite songs, "Blue Jeans" by the alternative rock band Blur, from the 1993 album Modern Life Is Rubbish, in which the opening lyrics are "Air cushioned soles, I bought them on the Portobello Road on a Saturday." Tim had often thought that Blur was one of more accurately rated bands in rock history, neither underrated nor overrated. Still, he had nothing but disdain for the casual Blur fan who was only familiar with their most famous song, aptly named “Song 2.” “Blue Jeans” partially filled the vacuum created by the end of the raucous, angry song that the band had just finished. It notably lacked a chorus with the words “Fuck You” in it, but then, so did most songs. The remaining band members were leaving the stage, dispersing in the crowd.
The last to exit the stage was the guitar player who had been handed his ass Scruffy’s guitar during his end of set temper tantrum. He appeared to be wearing what looked like a very expensive pair of acid washed jorts, paired with a white graphic t, and a washed out red sweater/hoodie. Tim wondered if Cody Simpson was aware that some guy was raiding his wardrobe.