Writing is a slow process, beginning to end. It's been several days since I blogged about needing to know about reptile diseases for the story I'm working on, and while I've finally decided to change the disease to an injury (it makes better sense with the plot), I'm only just now actually writing about it. It's amazing that a book that will take me months and months to write will only take a few hours to read when it's completed.
Of course, I didn't write at all today. Instead, I repotted a billion pepper seedlings and planted a few of the biggest plants outside. I also accidentally bought eight tomato plants and planted them. I didn't intend to grow any tomatoes this year, but the nursery that I stopped by today in hopes of finding tabasco pepper plants didn't have them but did have some really cool heirloom tomato varieties. I got 'black prince' tomatoes that are purply-black when they're ripe and the Cherokee purple variety that turns sort of a purply-magenta color. I also bought some black pansies, because I didn't even know pansies came in black!
I'm considering setting an hour aside every evening to use solely for writing. I'm not sure if it would work on Tuesdays when I don't get home from work until nearly 8:30 pm, but every other day I should be able to manage an hour. Hmm. Maybe I should hold myself to a schedule of "write one hour every day" without designating a particular hour. If I write over my lunch break, I can have the evening free; if not, I have to write an hour in the evening. And I get Tuesdays off. That should speed the writing up.