Cherie Priest, with whom I am currently embroiled in an unofficial but still inspiring “who’s written the most words this year” contest, writes at damned near the exact same pace I do, and furthermore, apparently has a mental metric system a lot like my own. As posted today/last night/whatever (this time zone thing is a you-know-what in the ass), she defines what constitutes a “good” day’s writing, in her opinion:
Marginally Acceptable — 1000 words
Fair — 2000 words
Good — 3000 words
Glorious — 4000+ words
I’m beginning to think she and I were separated at birth. Though, as I said to her, I think my upper limit runs something more like 4000 = Very Good, 5000 = Excellent, 6000+ = Now *That’s* What I’m Talkin’ About.
As I also said to her, I need my head checked.
My mom commented on that last night, actually. The “Catie needs her head checked” thing. She had a mental flash of my ambitions and my schedules and said, “You know, you’re probably nuts. You’ve got so many irons in the fire, and you keep planning more!” To which my not entirely rational response was, “Well, yeah, but I’m good at this,” where I have to presume “this” meant “being nuts”.
thinks I gotta do today:
– email matrice about 1. the letter, 2. the comic, 3. the book
– snag fred to talk to him about dresden stuff
– email jim