Slogging through the mid-word count mud

Now is the time I vomit details, worry about florid descriptions and ignore the plot. 'After all,' I think to myself, 'plot takes time, and time I haven't got until the word count is done.' Which is, sadly, true. 

The downside to detail-speak is losing track of the plot in my head, as I am not, as I remarked to a friend last night, much of an outline and prewriting person. The characters take me by the hand and lead me onwards into the murk, creating light and order as they walk, not as I project the light of my forethought.

So right now Jane is comforting a confused future father-in-law on trying to accept his only child being proposed to by two men and a woman, Thomas has been mute (and he's got next POV, so not for long) -- and, just remembered, I need to give him some more backstory and flavor, as Omar, who is in the kitchen with Iris (the fiancee) and her mom Millie putting brownies in boxes for the troops who are stationed... haven't reach that far. Or, Dan or Millie haven't slipped who we are at war with in 2011 (which is the calendar I'm using for this book).

Yeesh. I could have spent the above word count on the novel!

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