Tuesday 17 April 2018

Lost in Writing

I was shooting at the Pagoda shoot run by the Royal Richmond Archery Club.

I'm having one of those days when my doubts are at the forefront of my mind. Which considering my new word count last week met my targets seems a little bit odd to me. Clearly my emotions are rumbling in the background, and doubt seems to be my special friend.

Also, self-deprecation is a peculiarly British trait.

Now I sit here typing thinking what makes me write? I keep being told it should be fun; happy, happy words flow. But while I find myself typing I can't always say it feels like fun. Doesn't feel like work either. I just feel lost.

This is probably because I'm writing into the dark, which is a new thing for me. I no longer know what is going to happen. Well, more correctly speaking, how "what" is going to happen.

Targets out at 80 yards.
In the meantime I've been shooting. First competition of the year, where I placed last in my category having completely failed to sort out a sight picture at 80 yards. Sucks to be me.

Summary

Last week I wrote 8,190 words, which took 27.5 hours, averaging 297 words per hour.

It was cold and then it began to rain. With Chris and Richard from my club.
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