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First. I am proud of this. See, it might seem a little weirdly obsessive, but here's what I've been doing with my novel: I've set up an Excel spreadsheet that I use to enter the running total word count. The spreadsheet then calculates the number of words done that day and the weekly rolling average, and plots these on a graph. I realise this is strange behaviour, and it's not what I'm proud of. What I'm proud of is that I've finally got the weekly rolling average up to 1,000 words for the first time. Taking into account that Mondays and Tuesdays are full work days for me and so a bit of a write-off for writing, I'm pretty pleased by it. And it looks good on the graph.
Second. I have managed to give myself whiplash in the neck by stretching. This morning, I stretched back and then came forward too quickly, and I now have whiplash. I'm trying not to turn my neck. Is this the most pathetic way to injure oneself or what?
Third. I've just sold a reprint (republish?) of my Realms of Fantasy story, The Land of Reeds, to Pseudopod. It's a fantasy set in ancient Egypt, and I pity the poor reader who is going to have to pronounce all the ancient Egyptian names and words. Not that anyone could really say they got it wrong, I guess. This is my third sale to Pseudopod. I like this podcasting thing. :)
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