
Oh my God. Today was... oh my god. I wrote for an hour and bit, getting about 1500 words done, and then tried to save it. Instead, my whole document DISAPPEARED. I panicked, went to retrieve it, and none of my work from today was saved. I seriously freaked out, since I'd stumbled through some pretty cool sentences and such, and spent about fifteen minutes trying to retrieve it. I couldn't, and it turns out it was lost forever.
NOT GOOD.
After about five more minutes of insanity, running around the house and wailing to people, I sat back down at the computer. In the past forty-five minutes, I wrote 2723 words over the exact same subkect, redoing what I'd done before—about twice as many as I'd written previously in only a little less than double the time. So, when reading, keep in mind: this was frantically banged out, and although I was only recently cursing Neal (my computer's name, by the by), I now have reestablished our relationship, and we're getting along fine.
Random: Hemingway lost an entire novel once, moved on, and wrote something he said was so much better because the first was crap. Am not alone.
The moral of the story? If you ever do something REALLY REALLY REALLY STUPID ON ACCIDENT, come straight to me. I'll pep talk you to death, since I KNOW you can overcome it. I did, and I'm much happier with this version than my last. The hardest part was just moving on from the bad stuff, and making myself write despite it.
Night all, and best of luck on your WriMos. We can make it through.