Last November I took part in NaNoWriMo and managed to write 50,000 words of a novel. Come the first of December I put my novel aside to concentrate on real life that gets a little hectic at that time of year, and aside it stayed until a few weeks ago. Again an attempt or two to pick it up and get on with it weren't really successful so, in true Baldrick fashion, I came up with a cunning plan.
Setting targets or deadlines for myself never seems to work; I need an external stimulus of some sort. So I'm using Lent as that stimulus. In the past I've given things up for Lent or used it as an opportunity to be thankful; this year my aim is to write some novel - or do something connected with novel-writing - every day.
I began well but then missed four days - trip to Devon and rugby and general ennui - but picked it up again yesterday. My heroine, who was languishing in a lock-up, is waiting eagerly to see how I'm going to get her out of the pickle I seem to have written her in to, and I must confess to being rather curious myself.