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davidgillonWhen I was still working, I got into the habit of writing late at night. As in post-midnight. I find it a really peaceful time to work. Even though I'm not working any more I tend to find I'm still at least as likely to end up writing late in the evening as during the day.
Add to that all the hesitation and prevarication I felt at the start of the #Pitchwars revision process and I ended up doing the post-midnight thing again, and because I'm somewhat obsessive, and enjoy the process of writing, starting writing after midnight has generally ended up with finishing writing after dawn, sometimes well after. (As a bonus it also works reasonably well for chatting with my American mentor).
Things went well over the weekend, worked through several more chapters, cut a couple of thousand words - though the cut on the last chapter's wordcount was only 3%, I must do another pass and figure out why, my average is closer to 20%
Then yesterday I needed to go to the bank, which of course meant being up during the day. So of course I worked right through Sunday night. That's okay, thinks I, I'll just nip out at 10AM, go to sleep after that. But of course getting my sleep-deprivation-addled brain working enough to get me out of the house was a bit more complicated and it was mid-afternoon by the time I'd sorted myself out, add an hour searching for the paperwork I needed and it was 4PM by the time I got into town.
In the rain. first time I've used the chair in the rain. Yuck!
The banks (two of, opposite ends of Chatham high street) were actually straightforward, but, dammit, I'd forgotten (actually more a case of I'd never noticed pre-chair) that they've added cobbles to Chatham high street, plus lots of ornamental gutters that you can't avoid. Someone in Medway's engineering department hates wheelchair users. And apparently my hips still haven't forgiven me for Athens.
So I got home, changed, sat down in front at my desk and thought "at this point I may as well do some writing and see if I can get to sleep at a reasonable time".
Well, my brain thought that, all my body heard was "Sleeep!"
I woke up in the chair at god knows what time, coccyx screaming at me because it had been taking my weight for god knows how long, staggered through to the bedroom and went splat face first onto the bed.
I know I woke up at 2AM, because I looked at the clock and thought "Bugger! Oh well, maybe another twenty minutes snooze". Also at 3AM, 4AM, and finally 8AM.
I'm not quite sure exactly how much sleep I got, but a minimum of 12 hours, and probably significantly more.
Pacing, it turns out it's not just for books!
Add to that all the hesitation and prevarication I felt at the start of the #Pitchwars revision process and I ended up doing the post-midnight thing again, and because I'm somewhat obsessive, and enjoy the process of writing, starting writing after midnight has generally ended up with finishing writing after dawn, sometimes well after. (As a bonus it also works reasonably well for chatting with my American mentor).
Things went well over the weekend, worked through several more chapters, cut a couple of thousand words - though the cut on the last chapter's wordcount was only 3%, I must do another pass and figure out why, my average is closer to 20%
Then yesterday I needed to go to the bank, which of course meant being up during the day. So of course I worked right through Sunday night. That's okay, thinks I, I'll just nip out at 10AM, go to sleep after that. But of course getting my sleep-deprivation-addled brain working enough to get me out of the house was a bit more complicated and it was mid-afternoon by the time I'd sorted myself out, add an hour searching for the paperwork I needed and it was 4PM by the time I got into town.
In the rain. first time I've used the chair in the rain. Yuck!
The banks (two of, opposite ends of Chatham high street) were actually straightforward, but, dammit, I'd forgotten (actually more a case of I'd never noticed pre-chair) that they've added cobbles to Chatham high street, plus lots of ornamental gutters that you can't avoid. Someone in Medway's engineering department hates wheelchair users. And apparently my hips still haven't forgiven me for Athens.
So I got home, changed, sat down in front at my desk and thought "at this point I may as well do some writing and see if I can get to sleep at a reasonable time".
Well, my brain thought that, all my body heard was "Sleeep!"
I woke up in the chair at god knows what time, coccyx screaming at me because it had been taking my weight for god knows how long, staggered through to the bedroom and went splat face first onto the bed.
I know I woke up at 2AM, because I looked at the clock and thought "Bugger! Oh well, maybe another twenty minutes snooze". Also at 3AM, 4AM, and finally 8AM.
I'm not quite sure exactly how much sleep I got, but a minimum of 12 hours, and probably significantly more.
Pacing, it turns out it's not just for books!
