So, yesterday, after arriving home from church and finding that we were not going on our weekly geocache, I was a bit bummed.
For me, geocaches are a breath of fresh air (literally) and I absolutely love them.
For those of you who don't know, geocaching is treasure hunting done with a GPS ("Global Positioning System"... or something like that). You go to the official geocaching website, type in where you are and how far you're willing to travel, and voila! It gives you a list of coordinates to nearby geocaches that you can chase after! They have easy ones that you drive up to, step out of your car, and find without really looking, and they have ones where you have to hike five miles through woods, briars, creeks, etc.
They get pretty interesting-- Especially when your little brother about falls off a cliff into a creek, or when you have to climb through connecting trees to cross said creek. Or there's always when you get dizzy and start seeing things for lack of water. (Yes, my family tends to do things the hard way, don't let it scare you off)
Anyways. In the end you find a plastic container full of (usually) useless plastic toys. But what you find isn't the joy of it, it's how it is found! Who wants to stroll down a paved sidewalk, look over your shoulder, and say, "Oh, there it is." When you can crawl under fences, tramp through nettles, climb through trees, and then, with great relief, at last turn over that special rock and shout, "FOUND IT!!!!"
Sure, in the extreme temperatures, like Summer and dead of Winter, easy caches are the way to go. But otherwise? Easy caches are for the weak of heart.
Plus, there's all the listening to music and chatting on the way to the cache site.
...That was a rather long rabbit trail far off what I was going to talk about. Ah well, you can see, I love geocaching.
And yesterday, we didn't go, and I was a bit sad over.
But then it occurred to me that I had an awful lot of writing to get done. See, on September 3rd, 4th, and 5th (Labor Day weekend), I am going to write a novel. A complete novel.
Yes, I'm insane, no need to tell me.
And I would very much like to have the current novel I'm working on ("Avesolitus") finished by that time, which gives me about three weeks. And on top of that, I would very much like to finish "Avesolitus" by the 31st of August, so I have some no-writing time before the 3Day Novel, to recuperate and think a few things through. And, before yesterday, I was only partly through the first chapter.
Yeah. Problem? I think yes.
So, instead of moping about no geocache, I decided I would write. A lot. As close to 10,000 words as I could get.
At 12:00pm, I started. I finished chapter one, zipped through three more chapters, and then, most of the way through chapter four, I ground to a sudden and final halt.
It seems you can run completely dry on creative juices. I'd not experienced it so potently before, but it happened yesterday. After seven and a half hours of writing, I just couldn't think of a single interesting thing to write.
I was a bit worried that I had used up all my creativity in one day, and wouldn't have anymore for a week or so.
But, the mind is a wonderful thing! After a cup of tea and a night of sleep (albeit not the most restful sleep), it has refreshed itself and is chafing at the bit to start writing again.
So, off I go!
Oh, and in case you were wondering, and are still reading this very long blog post, my final word count yesterday was 8,500 words.
Leaving me with a total word count of 14,166 words for "Avesolitus".
Yes, you may now be amazed.