One, Two, Three, Six and EIGHT

I don't have much to write. For, you see, I've been dedicating all of my post-Monk and Psych time to writing. I am going to finish this chapter tonight before I go to bed, I declared to myself. For the most part, aside from listening to a couple of Kevin Smith interviews, I've stayed on track. No butterflies to drag me away. Or flashing lights. Or whatever it is that distracts me.

And, I did just that. I finished chapter eight. I...sort of...restarted chapter seven...again. I did the "start with the back end and move on to the front later" method I had kicked around earlier. So far, I'm happy with it. So far, it's only 2 pages. However, it's more than what WAS there, so that's progress. And everyone likes progress. And I really like Luca Sunderman. I'm so glad I took a vested interest in the World Cup final (not only because it won me money) so that I could swipe that name "Luca".

However, it's nearing 1:00 in the morning, and Sleepy Karl is chewing at my consciousness. Damn him. So, I'll cut to the chase. Here's the updates:

Word count: 34962 (yes, it's way behind what I envisioned by this point)
Page count: 115

As for the treat I promised earlier in the week...the week's not over. It'll be here tomorrow night. I promise. I've just been busy trying to clean the house this past few days. And exhausted in the evenings, for whatever reason. Again, blame it on Sleepy Karl. Or the fact that it's too effing hot to breathe. Whichever.