1000 Hours of Writing: Hours 20 - 40
The next 20 hours of writing had been filled from the 27th of August until the 11th of September. Which means that I had half-ed the time I needed from previous 20 hours.
At the same time a cruel catastrophe had befallen me: I had injured my left thumb. To this day I am not sure how, or why. I am 80% convinced that it had been a Writer Injury because shortly before I had felt a pain while pulling my thumb back, I had had a brain-wave of creativity. I had to use that opportunity! The other 20% cannot believe that I live in the body of an 80 year old woman. Then again, I am currently leaning against many soft cushions because my back hurts. One way or the other: I had to take a break!
Or did I? Evidence suggest that I didn't, and it's true, I didn't. I discovered that if I don't hit the spacebar with my left thumb - as I normally would - I won't have to pull it back. So it would be well rested while I can type as quickly as I do.
Or did I? Evidence suggest that I didn't, and it's true, I didn't. I discovered that if I don't hit the spacebar with my left thumb - as I normally would - I won't have to pull it back. So it would be well rested while I can type as quickly as I do.
Soon enough my poor thumb was back in action and the world was bright again, all running along its usual course. Until one day, I decided that I should try to be a part of DriveTribe ... and A declared that applying would count for the 1000 Hours as well because I used words and applied with my writing.
However, over the years my life has taken many unexpected turns:
When I was a kid I thought I'd be an actress. Then I stopped growing. I thought that I'd be a teacher, like my mum. Then I discovered that school-classes are horrible. I thought I might become a fictional story teller, but as I tried to work on the fifth chapter of a soppy romance my brain stalled calling out for mercy. So, I opened up a blog, never touching the story again ... and somehow became a Tribe Leader as well.
When I was a kid I thought I'd be an actress. Then I stopped growing. I thought that I'd be a teacher, like my mum. Then I discovered that school-classes are horrible. I thought I might become a fictional story teller, but as I tried to work on the fifth chapter of a soppy romance my brain stalled calling out for mercy. So, I opened up a blog, never touching the story again ... and somehow became a Tribe Leader as well.
And yet, the biggest turn happened as I took a shift from work and doodled with words. I had ended up with a cock poem:
C had written an ode to M's cock. I published it on AO3, and gingerly awaited my Kudii - I believe that the word descended from Latin - and oddly enough they came. I mean the Kudii, but about the other thing ...
C had written an ode to M's cock. I published it on AO3, and gingerly awaited my Kudii - I believe that the word descended from Latin - and oddly enough they came. I mean the Kudii, but about the other thing ...
Anyway, while I stumbled through my 20 hours while injured and writing odes to cocks, A was at 54 hours, mostly because she had to colour a lot of flowers ... it's truly odd.
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