Day 30

15:00

Woke up at one thirty today, with a cracking headache. Man, I'm a loser.

I'm determined to start at this earlier today, to get what I need to do done, and not just fuck about for hours.

Why is it so much easier to be responsible when you're not at home, when you're not surrounded by the distractions you create for yourself? If I want to write so much, then why is it that I set myself so many traps around the easiest place to accomplish what I want to do? Why am I so naturally anti-productive?

Going to work now.

02:45

Feel happy that I've moved through a really difficult plot point at the beginning, but a shit-load still to do. I've written pitifully few words today, and didn't even make my four hours fully.

But I think I've worked out a way forwards: a couple more insights into the plot and I'll really be able to start powering through the middle section.

It's always the way with the beginning. It's much more of a delicate process than the rest of the story, and if you rush and take a wrong turn at the beginning, everything else that follows is deformed. It's like an early cell mutation that ensures the organism can never grow or live.

I'm getting some pretty extreme stuff into this script - there seems to have been no barbarity that the Franks did not experience or (more commonly) mete out to others. I really want to get this sense of brutality across in the story.

Anyway, onwards and upwards. I can only be more productive tomorrow.

word count: 556
hours writing: 3.5