Tonight, I finished chapter seven of my novel (draft two). Unfortunately, this is the end of week eight. Chapter seven should have been sent out to my readers last weekend and chapter eight should be going out now. There is a reason for this, of course, I didn't just slack off. I had the flu all last weekend (starting last thursday actually) and monday and tuesday saw it morphed into sinusitis. I missed three days of work. If I can't work, I can't write. It's a sad truth. I try.
But chapter seven is done and out now and tomorrow I'm going to get started straight away on chapter eight.
I suppose if I wanted to, I could look at this way: chapter seven of this draft was a combination of chapter's seven and eight in draft one. I could split hairs and say, 'hey, I really rewrote two chapters, so I'm still on track.' But I don't want to look at it that way. It seems cheap and I want to write a chapter a week, which in my opinion means having a chapter done in draft two every week. So far I'm eight weeks in and only have seven chapters. That's not acceptable. Tomorrow I'm going to keep working and try to play a little catch-up. It may not happen right away, but I will get caught up somehow.
Until next time, I'm Eric and I'm an unpublished writer.