Day Twenty-Three: Ok, One Promise

I promise that I will make 50,000 words. As of my last writing session, I am at 48,098 words. It is entirely possible that things started going downhill roughly 15,ooo words ago- plot not starting to make sense, just throwing in old stories I enjoy telling, trying to make up my own 'National Treasure' like code embedded in the text that some dork (probably Steve Zahn) can follow to the jar of quarters buried in my backyard, one day. Nonetheless, I will make 50,000 words.

So this leads to a little more channeling of my old wrestling coach. We often finished off our practices with a little something Coach Rivers liked to call 'shark bait'. Shark bait requires explaining: Four wrestlers in a group. Each wrestler picks a number, 1 through 4. To start, number one wrestles two, then number three, then number four. The cycle begins again as number two wrestles number three, then number four, then number one. Finally, number three wrestles each person starting with number four. In the end, you think you're going to die. So you're gasping for breath, fairly certain you can hear death whispering in your ear, when Coach Rivers would say, "Oh man, that was great. You know, that was so good, I think we need to do another one of those. Yep, everyone group back up, pick a different number, and let's do it again." Seriously, I want to be this man.

I write all this because I don't think I'm punishing myself enough. I'm bumping the word count up again. We're going with 2500 to start, and I may up it from there, we'll see.

Daily Word Goal: 2000

Saturday's Word Count: 2234

Surplus/Deficit: 234

J.W.B.: Crazy-good.

[Note: names are changed because I can. You know who you are if I'm writing about you.]

"When Jed's turn came, the young barber smiled big, wolf big, and gestured to the seat in front of him. Jed sat down, was spun around. From Archie to Achal, Jed's general hair desire was conveyed. Blonde hair began to flow down amongst that day’s pond of local black clippings. That’s when the man began to talk to Jed in a tone that he could recognize as hostile, even if he could not understand the words. With each snip of the shears, the man seemed to be making a point through Jed. The crowd gathered around laughed often, and sometimes grew serious, a couple people almost looking worried. Archie looked worried. Jed smiled when everyone else laughed, and shrugged when the man asked him questions he could not answer. Why he asked for a shave, Jed could not remember, as the questions seemed to grow more and more pointed the closer this man got to vital veins. At one point, the man stopped shaving, asked Jed a question, and waited for an answer. His face was smothered with contempt and anger. The razor was held in his hand, no where near Jed's neck, but his imagination ran wild. The Indian man expected an answer."

Check in tomorrow, when I include another shout out to Coach Rivers. Via request, I will post a picture capturing Coach Rivers' immortal "Oh, did he getcha in the nuts?" quote. (Thank you, Trey. I will do my best).