Sometimes I miss a day of word count—I always do double the next day to make up for it.
This time I missed three days. In a row. FAIL.
Sure, I have excuses. Work is swamping me (especially with this Dell account), and I moved into a new apartment this weekend, but still. I usually do more than minimum word count anyway, so I miss out on a lot of writing when I miss days.
I’ve made up for one of the three days so far. Sigh. I may just excuse the other days and move on with my life. I seem to have an excess of stressors lately. :O
In the meantime, I’ve put Servant of a Dark God aside to read Nathan’s Paradise Seekers. I have to make comments on post-it notes, so I may reserve my usually snippets of commentary many of my writer friends are used to, ha. Then I’ll finish John Brown so I can get to Mr. Monster by Dan Wells, which I’m actually really excited for. It’s nice to be excited for a book, once in a while.
Excerpt of the day:
Esrov touched his chin, thinking. When his clear eyes met hers, they still glowed with skepticism. “But that doesn’t make sense.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
“Because there’s only the Raimos, Ranny,” he said, tone delicate and careful. “You’ve seen it.”
Ranny rolled her eyes. “There are so many different beliefs in this world. Raima isn’t the only true one.”
“But have you seen the Duogods?” he asked, turning towards a portrait of Nowaditt.
She hesitated, but answered truthfully. “No, I haven’t. But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
“Does Duoshin teach of other gods, besides these?” He gestured to the walls of the entrance hall.
“Then by believing in other religions, aren’t you denying this one?”
“Of course not,” she countered, chest tightening. “But truth can be in more than one place. Father Alrith and Brother Cleff are proof enough that the Duogods exist, not the mention the countless people who pray to them and are guided by them. So, if Duoshin is true, and Raima is true, then Xuism must be true. Saerbollism must be true. Taratarism must be—”
“I’m sorry,” he said, so quiet she barely heard him. He offered a small, sad smile. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Ranny. This . . .” he paused, struggling for words, “. . . is all very close to me, as you can imagine. I’m just trying to understand . . . what I am.”
The Raimos, Chapter 17