I made it through my ninth day of writing a new novel with the goal of finishing 50,000 words by November 30th. I think the only thing left to do here is to write a letter to my brain.
I think it goes without saying that you know better than to arrive late for work. When I sit down at the computer, I expect you to be there with me...on time and prepared. Having corn chex for breakfast is no excuse. Eat your oatmeal if you must, but take naps when you are off the clock.
And may I remind you that this is November and you are not off the clock until December. When you give me that final 50,000th word, you can nap all you want and sing "All I Want For Christmas" on continuous loop.
First thing tomorrow I expect you to have solved that problem with the superfluous contagonist in Chapter 8. Does she have a reason to exist? Can we give her one or does she get the axe? I also want a motive for the antagonist and your little answer you gave me earlier of "He's just bad 'cause he wants to be" is not going to cut it.
That is all. I hope we don't have to revisit this again, Brain.