I wrote for 4 hours today.
It was hard.
I remember, back when I wrote more often, sitting for 5, 6, maybe 7 hours, churning out thousands of words. In the first 2 hours of my writing today, I wrote 320 words. Horrible. It was like pulling teeth.
But somewhere in that third hour it started coming back. My main character decided to do something unexpected, and then I realized that he was going to be walled up alive in a honeycomb (makes sense in context) which is HORRIFYING to me, but it’s what the story was doing. I love this, being pulled along by a story, dragged down dark alleyways I hadn’t noticed. Sometimes something magical happens there. Sometimes I’m mugged and they steal my kidney (metaphorically speaking).
Near the end of hour 4 I let myself get interested in the outside world, and slowed to a stop. Got around 1400 words today.
Nothing like in my hayday, when I cranked out 12-13k words in an evening. But it’s a muscle, and I’m horribly flabby right now.
For RoW80, I met my goal.