![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I'm well on my way to 750 words a day for the past 7 days (counting today). I'm still not sure how true for me, "write every day and you'll write more" is. But. But. I churned out that drabble yesterday (or was that the day before? I am in a time fog lately). And I just now wrote this little thing, the opening line of which came to me in the car driving in to work this morning.
Committing to a daily writing practice has been good so far! And if I do 750 words a day for the month of July I'll have written 23,250 words. That's twice what I need for my Mandr's Big Bang Story. So that's my goal. Spend July writing, and August editing, and presto, hopefully a story at the end of it.
Oh, and have this little Jack and Ianto thing, whatever it is...
Sitting in the pub, a couple pints in, with an eye on the dismal news footage flashing across the television set in the corner, Ianto sighs and says vaguely in Jack's direction, "Do we ever stop going to war?"
It's the kind of question he doesn't usually bother with. Straight answers aren't Jack's forte after all, but he's tired, and settling into a pleasant alcohol haze, and he asks because he can. Whether or not to answer is up to Jack, and they'll go on just the same if he does or doesn't.
Jack snags the open packet of crisps on the table, leans back, props his feet up on the bench on the opposite side of the booth and sighs.
Ianto is adept at reading Jack's silences, and figures he has as much of an answer as he's likely to get.
"I'll get us another round, shall I?" he asks as he slides out of the booth.
"And get some more of these..." Jack says waving the crisp packet and smiling up at Ianto.
Whatever the future holds, Ianto decides, the present is so much more important, and he intends to make the most of it.
Committing to a daily writing practice has been good so far! And if I do 750 words a day for the month of July I'll have written 23,250 words. That's twice what I need for my Mandr's Big Bang Story. So that's my goal. Spend July writing, and August editing, and presto, hopefully a story at the end of it.
Oh, and have this little Jack and Ianto thing, whatever it is...
Sitting in the pub, a couple pints in, with an eye on the dismal news footage flashing across the television set in the corner, Ianto sighs and says vaguely in Jack's direction, "Do we ever stop going to war?"
It's the kind of question he doesn't usually bother with. Straight answers aren't Jack's forte after all, but he's tired, and settling into a pleasant alcohol haze, and he asks because he can. Whether or not to answer is up to Jack, and they'll go on just the same if he does or doesn't.
Jack snags the open packet of crisps on the table, leans back, props his feet up on the bench on the opposite side of the booth and sighs.
Ianto is adept at reading Jack's silences, and figures he has as much of an answer as he's likely to get.
"I'll get us another round, shall I?" he asks as he slides out of the booth.
"And get some more of these..." Jack says waving the crisp packet and smiling up at Ianto.
Whatever the future holds, Ianto decides, the present is so much more important, and he intends to make the most of it.