This evening, Gui is taking me to spend the night with my second host family.  I'm excited that I'll get to meet them early-- we weren't supposed to get together until Halloween.  Since I won't be coming back to the house tonight, I'm writing a weird midafternoon entry, so as to leave my bloggin' streak pristine.

Today marks one week since I imposed upon myself a writing plan that will allow me to complete a novel by Christmas.  The goal is 7000 words per week.  "Art of War for Writers" said to give yourself a weekly goal instead of a daily one, so that you can redeem yourself if you screw up and get lazy on whatever day.  How did I do this week?

3715/7000

I'm disappointed in my self discipline too.  However, writing got done every day, even if it was only 300 words, so I am not entirely embarrassed.  Slowly but surely, this novel thing is happening.

That's all I've got for today, as the interesting stuff hasn't happened yet.  But here's a picture:

Haribo did not enjoy the experience.