Dig
I made no word count progress on the novel Dig, perhaps even reduced the word count, but I did sit and work on the manuscript for an hour and a half, which shouldn't seem all that substantial to anyone writing a novel, but it's the first I've spent that much time on it in one sitting in some time. Going back through from the beginning, fixing my lobster trapping facts and otherwise tweaking. Total word count now, either way, is 28,330.

     Did, however, have an idea for A Dream for Awakening this evening, too. It's been stuck in novella-land (aka unmarketable) since I completed it over a year ago, but I may have at last figured out the rest of the story to translate it into a novel-length manuscript. And if Dig continues to fight me as much as it has been, I'll turn to that project instead. But that likely won't happen until at least after Christmas, if not after New Year's.

     Saturday was, by the way, the one year anniversary of the day on which I began writing Dig in a coffee shop one morning, sitting there unshowered because we had lost power at our house through an ice storm, and I had sat on the phone the night before listening to my girlfriend-of-the-time cry to me for something I hadn't been able to give her (or maybe hadn't been willing to sacrifice, and that's where the self-debate begins), and we were never the same. And that was the emotion off which the novel was born. And has struggled to a word count of only 28k words in the twelve months since, partially on account of the very emotional struggle tangled within its premise. But it's never lost its foundation.