Sometimes I feel like my story is probably stupid. Like, who on Earth is going to want to read about these over-privileged white kids, who think they know everything, who have too much sex, who don’t do too many drugs, who sit around talking too much? And who on Earth is going to care about what they want to do with their lives, and how it all turns out in the end?

But other times I am so seriously in love with every single one my characters. I’m disappointed when they make mistakes, and I’m giddy when they’re happy, and my heart breaks for them when they’re sad. And if I care about them, there must be at least someone else out there in the world who could care, right?

I don’t know what this means, except that I think I’m a little bit crazy.

That, and I’m not really sure what the difference is between a romance novel, and a novel about love?

novel stats:
41,300 wds. (~38%)
125 pages
Still working on ch. 4 of 13

It seems like a lot more than last week (5000 words more) but that’s just because I pulled most of the chapter from notes I already had written. Pretty sketchy notes, but the chapter is there, and I’ll spend next week (maybe two weeks) filling it out.

Then on to chapter five! Chapter five is Danny’s first chapter. Danny is a dorky and charming stoner boy, and Lexi’s other half. Chapter five is going to be a challenging chapter to write. It needs to accomplish a lot, and the rest of the story kind of hangs on it at the moment, in whichever way it ends up going. Ack! Pressure!