Day 43. 151 pages, 69,120 words. Some overlap here, but going well.
Still very swollen and uncomfortable, getting to the point where I need to call the doctor to make sure they haven’t fucked something up. I deflate a bit while I’m lying down, but sitting and walking is painful. “Very painful”, the handy-dandy recovery instructions list as the criteria for calling. How fucking useless and subjective is that? I wouldn’t call this “very painful”, but then I have endured bowel surgery. And this is “frustratingly painful”, all the time.
Yeah, it hurts to walk because this is chafing season and my balls are about 50% bigger than I’m used to and have a fucking surgical incision on either side.
Fuck all this.
Anyway, I got a little tiny pointless session of writing done today, and finally managed to put my stats back in order. Weirdly, this long flatline followed by a spike mirrors exactly the previous book at the same point. I can’t promise I’ll be able to keep up the same momentum, but the shape of the metrics was very interesting. See the Book 6 and Book 7 lines below.
Still been overtaken by Fergunakil, though.
Molran will be hitting the shelves this coming week, I’m just waiting for my cover now.