WIPmarathon Check in #3

This is my first lunchtime posting. Up till now it's been a last thing at night job as I spend the day imagining I can get a few more words on the page before I log my final count. Not so today. I am already so proud of my word count for the week that I am unashamedly blogging at lunchtime and looking forward to an early night.

Last Saturdays word count 29,457

This Saturdays word count 39,922

Over 10,000 words in a week is definitely a record for me and on Monday I wrote over 4,000 words in just one day.

If you want to see how the other WIPmarathoners are doing visit their websites via this linktool.

WIP issues this week = none! Did you read the stuff above, I'm in the zone, head down, charging for the finish. Without bashing the marathon metaphor too much I think I hit the wall last week and am now home and dry in fat burning territory.

What I learnt in writing this week.
That I can write the way I want to. It sounds like a ridiculous thing to say but I read Elmore Leonard's top ten tips for writers this week and it has reallymade me feel good about the way I write. I'll have a go at explaining. Last week I said I had been suffering from disillusionment. This crops up every now and then because I like reading rip-roaring page turners and unsurprisingly that's what I attempt to write. It's fast-paced and fun but it's probably never going to win a prestigious award. Awards go to stories of young boys coming to terms with autism in post war Germany, or a family struggling to deal with a teenage pregnancy whilst emigrating to Indonesia. I like: unsuspecting scientist stumbles on plot to infect the World with chicken pox and only he can save the day with the help of feisty female defence minister who dares to believe his story. Anyway, read the top ten tips. If you're aiming to write the worthiest book in history ignore eight out of ten tips. If you want to be the next Dan Brown take all of them to heart.

What distracted me this week?
Twitter, of course.

And now for my last 200 words..slightly less gruesome than last week.

Mr Nyondo reached into his drawer and pulled out his gun. It was cocked with the safety off before Bobby could even think about screaming.

‘Now we have a problem.’ said Mr Nyondo. Bobby could see he was a man who enjoyed holding a weapon, the gun gave him control and the control gave him arrogance. ‘Don’t say another word. I’m tired of listening to your clever little questions and empty threats. If you want to threaten a police officer in Africa you need a gun and the guts to use it. You, my friend, have neither.’

‘Are you asking me to leave?’ said Bobby, praying the answer would be yes.

‘No. I think it’s a bit late for that. I’m asking you to sit tight whilst I think of the best way to deal with this situation. If you were a man I’d shoot you, plant a knife in your hand and say it was self defense. But you’re a woman so that won’t sound so good. On the other hand, you are a very attractive woman so I might be able to find a more pleasurable way of dealing with you.’

Nyondo smiled hungrily and Bobby felt hatred burn in her chest.