I've written 10k words this week.
Especially considering that the past two years of brain storming produced about 15k words. In five days of tunneled dedication, I've almost doubled my word count.
After the initial excitement died down, I thought of something Stephenie Meyer said in an interview: "I used to read three or four books a week, but I can’t read while I’m writing. "
When I read that in December, I thought, "Croopus, that's a bummer. I'm glad that's not my groove."
But now it's looking like it is. Like I'm the most prolific when I cut out all distractions.
Ah, well, if the French can suffer to be beautiful, I suppose I can handle a little reading withdraw to be a writer. Just as long as this isn't a permanant situation. And considering how nicely I'm clipping along at the moment, the time for picking up books again can't be too far away.