This weekend was shot…or so I thought. Friday night was wasted in video games and such. TheWife wasn’t feeling well, so she laid down after we got home and I fired up the trusty, mind-numbing complete and utter distraction that is my PS3. Damn I love that thing. Friday night passed and I sort of felt guilty. The only reason that I felt guilty is that my writing group, as small in number and immeasurably great in awesomeness that they are, had a challenge on the table to write 2000 words by Sunday night. I was about 1700 words away from meeting that challenge because I did a little bit of writing on my flights to and from Seattle earlier in the week.
Saturday was another wasted day as my PS3, evil seductress that she is, beckoned me unto her almost as soon as I woke up. I played until TheWife and I headed out to Costco to take care of the Necessaries. Lunch was had, vitamin D was absorbed, and we came back home in time for me to head out and see a movie with my brother and father-in-law. I will not name the movie because you, if having seen it, will either love it or think that I am a total deviant for having watched it. Saturday was capped off with dinner and birthday party for my sister-in-law. Pizza and karaoke were had (and a beer or two) and I knocked the dust off of my karaoke boots with a spot on performance of Ice Ice Baby.
This morning was incredible, as TheWife and I headed downtown for the Utah Art Fest. It was a great time and really struck a chord with me to get my ass in gear. These artists were not only hawking the fruit of their loins, but they were making money at it as well. I saw some of them, even in 90+ degree heat, working on future works of art. We ate, I drank another beer, and then we rested under a tent where a delicate, squeaky voiced girl read four pages of her work aloud to an audience. She was twelve or thirteen tops, and sounded like she had already found her voice as a fledgling writer. I envied her. Then I had to leave because my frustration in myself was boiling over to the point where I could not enjoy listening to her any more.
I chalked this weekend up as a total failure. A loss. A disappointment. Then, at 7:58 pm I received and email from ShanShan toting her claim to 2040 words written this week. Then John Stamos replied and toted his 2400 words for the week. I do not have words for the emotion that I felt. It was a hodgepodge of fear, depression, excitement (genuine and completely for them), and motivation – it also came to me in the squeaky, high-pitched voice of a pubescent girl for some reason.
So, after watching MasterChef with TheWife – I know, it sounds like another distraction which is completely true, but one of my other unfulfilled dreams in life is to be a chef, so I chalk it up as research – I began transferring some of my writing from my Seattle trip to Scrivener. Things began to flow. I pulled a nugget of inspiration from a prompt that I created for a game, plucked it into my general idea for a prologue, and off I went. I had a breakthrough. And even though it took me almost three hours, I had 2189 words down in something that I think has potential and that I am proud of.
While writing this, it also occurred to me that I created my blog this week and that in the forty minutes that it took me to write this post, I have pounded out another 640+ words. Adding in my other blog posts for the week, I am looking at a grand total of 3494+ complete!
That makes me incredibly happy (note: this final sentence not counted towards final word count)!