I’ve been trying to write at least 1,000 words a day on either story, preferably both that I am currently working on. One, however, is being handwritten and therefore I’m not too sure how many words at a time I’ve been writing, but if I can get a page or two pumped out at a time then I’m pretty happy.
It’s been difficult since my family joined me on the Cape, but its working out for the most part. If nothing else I’ve found that I can escape to the Library (with its Internets) and get some uninterrupted work done here. They don’t care that I’ve been sitting in the same arm chair for four hours occupying the sole power outlet available for public use (I brought a power strip just in case someone else needed it as well); they don’t care that I haven’t eaten lunch; they don’t care that I’m not engaged with the other people around me; they don’t feel like I’m neglecting them. I love the library. Suddenly I irrevocably love this tiny little capeside library. I love the people who work here and I have affection for the other patrons. I have two movies out still and my ten year old niece got two books. I returned a book and a dvd the other day. I plan to take out more books, I plan to spend another four or five hours together in this tiny little building before the summer is over. I love the fucking library.
A place that relishes in quiet and books, good god, could there be anything more beautiful than the library?