Three days ago I wrote nothing.
Two days ago I wrote 946 words (section 76).
Yesterday I wrote 604 words (which is probably about half of section 77).

Today I have spent a lot of time staring at my main character, who is, at the moment, sulking. I suppose he's entitled to a good sulk; he hasn't had one all novel, and he's certainly had enough justification to give him a little to whine about. It's difficult to write, though. We'll see how many words I get out of it.

I also yesterday had my head invaded by a Changeling character in quite vigorous force. He's more annoying than the gnome. So perhaps yesterday is '604 words and an enraged goat'.

Made my Christmas gift for my sister-in-law today. Or at least the first part, since I need to paint it later. I love making statuary, the act of devotion as well as the sheer satisfaction of working with the clay; I always light incense before I start on a statue and let it burn (though it burns out before I'm done, since the sculpting takes several hours and I can't replenish the incense with my hands all over clay). (I don't think I've actually posted about my sister-in-law's state of being, and . . . I don't think I'm going to just now, actually.)

[livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan has the winter crud, poor fellow.

And, what the heck, I'm joining the memeing at windmills with this post.
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