I wasn’t really happy with the wordcount from 2013. I didn’t write much, couldn’t even finish an innocent NaNoWriMo novel for that matter and disappointment hung in the air like a dirty, unwashed wife beater that still smells of that one time you tried to exercise and it didn’t quite work out and you don’t want to go to the memory ever again. Literally.
What? No one experiences disappointment this way? Read More January Writing Stats (Or How I Talked Myself out of Being Productive)