Some writers I know write much faster than I do. Some writers I know write slower. Some writers I know write more hours a day than I do. Some writers I know write less. One thing I've learned. I cannot successfully complete a new book if I worry about comparing myself to others, therefore...I write the number of words a day that I write. I write the number of hours a week that I write. When my efforts feel so small that I sometimes wonder if it's worth it to continue, I take this verse as my mantra:
"Out of small things proceeds that which is great." (Doctrine & Covenants 64:33)
Here is a weekly summary of my often "small" writing efforts. And just for fun, I'm throwing in one "new" sentence a day from my daily writing. These sentences may or may not make the final editing cut when all is said and done, so enjoy them while you can!
Thanks for joining me on my journey!
Monday: 811 words
Sentence: What harm could result from one sweet memory of an hour spent listening to him finish his chanson?
Tuesday: 1105 words
Sentence: Having refused the invitation for the fifth time, Acelet stuck upon the happy notion of silencing Bricot by offering him another sheet of parchment to draw upon.
Wednesday: Out of town all day
Thursday: 801 words
Sentence: Could he ever truly hope to be worthy of her himself, a bookish poet who preferred a common staff to a warrior's sword?
Friday: 974 words
Sentence: A tongue that would likely keep flapping in spite of himself even after it had been removed from his mouth.
Saturday: 1950 words
Sentence: She remembered again his drawing, with the tiny oval surrounded as though by rays of light.
If anyone would like to start a Summary Sunday on their own blog, you're welcome to share my idea. All I ask is that you link back to my original blog link.
Tuesday: 1105 words
Sentence: Having refused the invitation for the fifth time, Acelet stuck upon the happy notion of silencing Bricot by offering him another sheet of parchment to draw upon.
Wednesday: Out of town all day
Thursday: 801 words
Sentence: Could he ever truly hope to be worthy of her himself, a bookish poet who preferred a common staff to a warrior's sword?
Friday: 974 words
Sentence: A tongue that would likely keep flapping in spite of himself even after it had been removed from his mouth.
Saturday: 1950 words
Sentence: She remembered again his drawing, with the tiny oval surrounded as though by rays of light.
If anyone would like to start a Summary Sunday on their own blog, you're welcome to share my idea. All I ask is that you link back to my original blog link.
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