We had a good weekend, although a busy one. Saturday was the nearest thing to a day off that we seem to allow ourselves in that we actually went out to a coffee shop for an hour and a half and we watched a DVD (Dodgeball--a strange mixture of brilliance and the odd crass misfire). Sunday was packed all the way through. We wrote and then typed up all morning, took Nika for a long walk in the sunshine, then started cleaning. Cleaning always takes longer than it's supposed to. I intend to just make things respectable, then a couple of hours later find myself crouched down scrubbing tiny marks from the corner of the skirting boards. Of course, everything looks great now, but I'm so stressed whenever anyone goes near somewhere I've cleaned I'm about to have a breakdown.

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I wrote and typed about 1,500 words of the novel on Sunday and wrote just over two (handwritten) pages today, which will probably come out to about 800-900 words. I've been trying to up the pace of the novel and to put in more action so I can work towards a climax. It's working quite well, I think, and I'm wondering if I need to go back and accelerate the action in earlier parts too.

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Came up with a new story idea last night, which I'm not allowing myself to write. I consider this a good thing. I tend to come up with good ideas when what I'm writing is going well. I think it's a sign that my brain is trying to sabotage me. It won't work. I'll just save the idea until the novel is done. Take that, brain!