NaNo Update 2: It's not as good or as bad as I think it is

Good morning, fellow writers and readers. I wonder, do you have carpal tunnel syndrome, too?

Today in the continuing quest to write the Madame Bovary inspired novel Mrs. Boyd (and yes, I have read the original many times. You should, too. It's amazingly contemporary), I am closing in on 10,000 words today. My goal for this week is 20k, but this seems ambitious right now. Perhaps 15k is more realistic.

Here are a few thoughts on the novel so far:

1. The whole project is not as good or as bad as I think it is.
2. I've always prefered writing in first-person, so writing in third-person is REALLY stretching me. My current tone sounds like a bard describing a story off-stage. Here is our tale.... Bleck!
3. I'm trying to fill up on a lot of John Irving in the evenings. Irving is the master at third-person. His transitions between characters is effortless. I want to do that!!
4. I'm seriously considering adding recipes to the text. Yes, recipes! Madame Bovary is filled with feasts and food, so I think my chapter introductions might include menus appropriate to the action. (But what to serve with adultery?)
5. I've discovered that Mrs. Boyd has a fixation on Julia Roberts. Hmmm.
6. I have NOT resisted the urge to go back and edit a few things. I know. Bad writer!
7. Halloween candy is a good motivator. (I stole an Almond Joy from my daughter's bag, put it atop my computer and rewarded myself with it after a 1,000 word sprint.)
8. A couple of readers requested a snippet. (Hey, quid pro quo...I want to read YOUR snippet, too.) Here's a paragraph that launches the story into Charlie Boyd's early life. But what I want to do is go back later and find out more about his mother. (Also, I don't know if they had home pregnancy test in 1971.)

In 1971, Martha Boyd discovered she was pregnant. It seemed to her an immaculate conception. She could count on one hand the number of times she and her husband had had sex. So when she saw the results on her early pregnancy test, she fell to her knees and thanked the Lord for choosing her as a vessel of the Second Coming. Then she threw up. When infant Charles Lawrence Boyd came into the world several months later, he had the tell-tale red-wine birthmark of his father; a Michigan-shaped spot on his right hip. Though this evidence dispelled all her plans for being the object of devoted prayer and worship like the original mother of Jesus, she discovered that she enjoyed caring for her newborn son, rocking and singing him to sleep. She informed her husband that her first place in life was now as a mother so he’d better get used to making a meal in the fancy new contraption called a microwave that sat atop their grey file cabinet. By the time Charlie was a teen-ager, he’d gotten used to being the center of his mother’s world and his parents rarely spoke to each other.

And just as a point of interest, here's a pic of how beautiful it is outside in Dallas this week. Definitely not write-a-novel-weather. I want to go outside and play.