It's all gone to pieces, and God alone knows why...

[desperance]

...except that it hasn't, and I too know exactly why.

For yes, this is Tot-Up Tuesday, noon as near as; and the numbers are horrible this week, and yet it hasn't really been a bad week workwise, despite all the social stuff and then the antisocial stuff and the Unutterable Gloom and so forth.

So, the numbers: the new book has progressed to

12,919 / 150,000 (8.6%)

or in my preferred page-count metric:

41 / 450 (9.1%)

which gives me only 5,806 words for the week, 17 pages, which would be appalling. Happily, I do know that secretly it's more than that, because much of the previous week's count had to be torn apart and utterly rewritten, so you can probably add another dozen pages, another four thousand words or so to this. And, of course, I have been proofreading for much of the week; and I have also been out almost every evening, and getting upset about stuff that I won't talk about here, and so forth. So it hasn't really been as slow a week as it pretends.

Still, long way to go before I have anything I can usefully show to agents. And I am aweary of proofs already, with a whole lot more to come; and I have to write a story for the Phantoms gigs, in four weeks now. And it's cold, and I'm depressed. Meh.

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*more hugs and comforting thoughts*