This is a bit indulgent of me, but then this is my website and you’re currently on it. So joke’s on you. Anyway, I have spent the past week or technically longer than that (week and a half) trying to finish my book. And TODAY, I got to just over 100,000 words. Which, as I said on Instagram, is about one sixth of War and Peace, but then Tolstoy was an awful old windbag. So I haven’t got the strength to write much more. I just thought I’d tot up the numbers of my week below.
20,335 – words written.
832 – cups of coffee drunk.
61 – KitKats eaten at kitchen table.
4,729,211 – number of times I have been exasperated at trying to come up with an acceptable word instead of ‘vagina’ for the sex scenes. Anyone? ANYONE?
7 – number of runs I have been on to try and stem the madness that generally sets in at around 3pm when you’ve been writing on your own all day drinking coffee, eating KitKats and trying to avoid using the word ‘vagina’.
20 to 30 – number of times I’d wondered if it would have been easier to go to law school instead of being a writer.
4 – packets of Camel Blue smoked in an effort to be more George Orwell about my process.
15 – number of coffee shops I have crawled when the kitchen table gets too much and I crave some sort of human interaction. Even though it was just to say ‘White Americano please.’
3627 – number of times I have listened to the Ed Sheeran/Stormzy remix of Shape of You. TRUST.
3627 – number of times I have listened to Sia’s Never Give Up. (From the Lion soundtrack).
6,900,004 – number of times I have googled how many calories are in things because I was bored of writing.
6 to 7 – glasses of wine drunk every night to ‘wind down’.
0 – number of times I got out of my pyjamas before 3pm.
A week of achievements on many levels, I think you’ll agree. My apologies to anyone who has emailed me because I’ve been a terrible correspondent this week. Back in the office on Monday. My typically lacklustre approach to admin will resume then.