46,000 Words... and A Rough Day Yesterday

I reached 46,000 words yesterday, but did it on a wing and a prayer. I am so close to the end, but really had no time for writing yesterday, but forced 1000 words because I really want to finish early. I would really like to have the weekend free of writing!! I was very uninspired, and just ended up cutting and pasting a bunch of stuff from the gongshow hockey website- their t-shirts are de rigeur among the Five for Fighting set. Here is an example:


Since everything I wrote yesterday was stupid, here is an excerpt from the day before. Hope you like it:

“I would like to speak to my brother,” she said, and the others squinted and nodded at her. Smart move, their squinty eyes said. Well played, their nods communicated. She squinted and nodded in return.
“He can’t come to the phone right now, he’s…. otherwise occupied.” The man responded, his voice carrying the tone of West Coast, laid back surfer culture. But now that Annie was paying more attention, she thought that there was a ring of untruth in it. And there was that snickering. They kept laughing every time he spoke. She was about to reply in an angry tone, perhaps hang up, when he spoke again.
“But we are very anxious to see you, we hope you’ll join us soon. That would be… radical.” Annie was convinced more than ever that the whole ‘surfer’ thing was put on. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but if she knew one thing, it was that you should never take dating advice from your gay friend who just stole your girlfriend. This she had learned from a close watching of Dawson’s Creek. If she knew two things, the second was that information was power, but only if you played your cards close to the vest, and only if you played them very well. Like most valuable life lessons, she had not learned this from a close watching of Dawson’s Creek.
“I would be very happy to join you,” she said, playing along, “perhaps you could be so kind as to give me your exact location, and I will be along tout de suite.” She cursed herself for her use of French, she just couldn’t help it, she was nervous. Now they were going to think she was uppity. She had been accused of this before, on more than one occasion. The last time had involved a leather jacket smartly paired with an evening gown and a beer throwing competition gone awry. You do the math. The surfers either chose to ignore her faux pas, or they already believed she was uppity and were unconcerned.