Another week of NaNoWriMo has passed, and this one was a little less productive. I didn't write at all for 3 out of the 7 days. The first day I didn't write was because I was feeling drained, like getting in the words was a slog I needed a break from, so a break is what I took. The other two days were due to a busy weekend of coaching. Regardless, for the first time this month I am officially behind schedule, and I've got to make up for lost time over the next nine days. I'm not worried, though. Things are going pretty well.
In other news, I'm also proofreading Along Came December in preparation for publication. Between proofreading and writing Novel #2 I feel like I've got my hands full, but I also feel bad that I haven't written any short fiction since, oh, October? All those poor story ideas languishing unrealized... is it weird to feel sorry for them? It's like the ol' imagination well just keeps filling with ideas and I can't empty it fast enough. A good problem to have, I suppose. Better than the alternative.