In the last two weeks I've generated twenty thousand words. That's a lot, a whole lot! At least it is for me. Twenty thousand words means I'm planting my tushie in a chair and typing as fast as I can type, with a few moments here and there to think, for a solid three and half hours.
|I've heard he's great about deadlines.|
When I was working at my law firm people would say things like, "Do you think you can review all these documents and get back to me by tomorrow?"
And I would shake my head sadly and say, "Probably not. I probably won't be able to give you any kind of real feedback for at least three days."
Which is the worst thing to say when people are paying you real money to work for them EXCEPT it didn't take long for everyone to figure out I would then stay up all night long until I had a working version of any given transaction rattling around my brain. See! I like to set expectations low so I can consistently outperform expectations. But this time I can't. There's no room for me to say Losing Hope won't be finished until next summer, at the earliest, and then wow everyone when I produce it in February.
|Is this guy edible?|