No, I'm not talking about that Ron Jeremy stand-in, Dick Enrico, and his line of used exercise equipment stores. Please, I'd like to buy a treadmill I'm not going to use but probably has the residual sweat of the last fat guy who tried to walk away his Krispy Kremes on it. I'm actually talking about how I'm at 28,200 words, and can maybe see how this blasted novel is going to end! I'm trying to get ahead of the game in the next couple of days, because with Thanksgiving, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to type. And God knows I don't want to finish at 12:07 a.m. on December 1st.
Another thing. I've been thinking about this lately, as it is the eve of the next Harry Potter movie, and I wanted to mention my biggest bone to pick with the books. Adverbs. Loads of them. J.K. Rowling loves her some adverbs fierce. Or fierce-LY. And it's always buggered the piss out of me. But, upon writing my own novel, I notice that I, too, fall victim to the adverb curse. Of course, in my case, every word counts, and I will happily, merrily, forthrightly add adverbs to reach 50,000 words. That, and make one of my characters a stutterer. I say that jokingly.
"See, isn't that annoying?" he asked mockingly.
G'night, Go' bless!