Monday night was our regularly scheduled Pirates' Night. We gather, eat pizza, drink whatever and talk. About books read and movies watched and life lived, but mostly about writing. It's informal. No critiques, although pages are swapped once in a while. A night I look forward to all month.
I arrived at 5:30, ordered my slice of pizza, found a seat and pulled out my manuscript to mark up. I ate the slice while I continued to mark up pages. I wrote missing scenes. Every so often I glanced at the door. Ali had said she'd be + 1, but late. Fleur couldn't make it. But no one else showed up either.
About 7:10, I texted Ali. She was about 15 minutes away. Then I ordered a decaf latte. And I marked up more.
At 7:30 Ali + 1 arrived. I put my marked up pages away, and the usual talking commenced. No one else made it. Life managed to interfere with more than one Pirate this month. Emails had been sent after I'd left work for the day. But the talk was interesting, and the next two hours flew by.
It wasn't until the next morning that I pulled out those marked up pages to see how many there were. Surely I'd made my 30 page goal for the day. Goal + 67! 97 pages in two hours. Two hours I didn't expect to have. Two hours that prove how much can be accomplished if the butt is planted in a chair and a pen is kept in the hand.
And I'd managed to get past the worm hole without being sucked in. You know the point. The place where I'd decide I needed to go back to the beginning and start over. But I just scribbled right past it. I'm now in "new" territory.
This means I'll have revisions done well before the CWC meeting this month. I may even get a second pass (quick though it will have to be) to do more clean up. All because of two hours.
I'm keeping a look out for two more.