Last week was a good week, I think. I've been pushing myself to get more done. It's hard, with the children and work, but I'm squeezing out every minute I can. Though I prefer a chunk of time to myself, where I can get into the flow, I know that doesn't happen as often as I would like. So instead, anytime I get a few minutes, I'm going to write a sentence, two sentences, I'm going to move the action forward. I'm growing into the mindset of "I'll fix it later", meaning that evening if the prose isn't up to the standard I want, if I move the story forward, when I come back, I can pretty it up. I don't know if that's the right thing to do, but what I used to do was agonize over every sentence before they made it to the page. Now, I think I'm going to save the agony for later, when the story is complete.
Here's a little snippet of what I wrote this week:
The vision gone, Taryn stared at her sister, concern filling her eyes. What had she said? Something about the sight of him, the sight of the others. The trauma. Something about not getting involve. Something about not letting him romance her into getting involved.
Taryn sighed. "I was listening... sort of. It's hard to focus. To not thing of him, them."