That’s a very inspirational title for what is a fairly commonplace problem. Word counts. Oh, how I hate them. As a student I was always the one trying to work out how far under the limit I could be without breaking the “10% either way” rule. I simply lack the ability to expand.
I’ve always been told I’m too concise. In many ways it was a good thing – nobody listens to a person who rambles on, do they? Well, it’s no good when you’re a writer. Before I was published, I was given the advice that after I complete my first draft I should aim to cut out at least 10% of the word count – yet another 10% rule I end up breaking. If I’d done that with my debut novel I’d have knocked myself out of the novel range completely.
OK, this month I have to get myself to sixty thousand words, and I’m nearly there. But this month I am also doing Dryathlon for Cancer Research, which means I can’t have a glass of wine with my writing. AAGH!
So wish me luck as I struggle to overcome two limitations in one go, and forgive me if I appear at the end of the month having torn out my hair.