I found myself on the floor, literally, cursing Writingup for not allowing me to post about my thoughts, problems, and concerns for the past two days. I don’t know if it was just the location I was in, but I wasn’t able to access anything.
Guess what, ya’ll…
I have written
75, 536 words on my novel, A Bitch’s Gospel. I have
5,000 more to go before I am officially finished with the first draft. I’m so happy I could just shit. This is like pushing an eight-pound baby from my imaginary vagina.
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