After being home from University for just under a week now, I’ve only managed to write 1080 words. And those were all yesterday, when I finally made myself work instead of catching up on TV, playing Xbox or playing with my cats.
I feel a bit like the story of the HMS Bounty – the ship docked in Tahiti after 10 months at sea, and had to spend 5 further months on the island due to unexpected problems with their cargo. Those five months in a tropical paradise were enough to destroy the sailor’s discipline, and problems further arose due to the captain’s heavy handed punishments and routine humiliation of other sailors. Many mutinied.
While not a completely accurate comparison, when I arrived home – away from my usual workspace and my university mindset/work ethic – all discipline I had created in writing 1050 words every day was lost.
Thankfully I have nobody to blame but myself, and nobody to answer to but myself, so I’m not likely to be court martialled. Also, I’m not actually all that far behind on my wordcount, as I’ve organized my timetable for work until the 1st January, which will mean I am exactly on track for 48,000 words by the new year – just over half of my novel.
Now all that remains is to force myself to follow orders.