(This post was originally written on 750words.com. It has been edited.)

Harriet the Spy and Encyclopedia Brown and the mystery issues of Sweet Valley and every other young adult I read that were more about fighting crime than teen problems. I think I might want to write a series like that. A detective and a sidekick and a dog. It’s tradition. Tintin, too, and those Canadian mysteries. For all that I never took to the classic British mysteries my parents read, I read and loved a surprising number of young adult mysteries when I was a young adult. Then there’s the procedurals I love watching now. I want to write something like Tintin. Kinda British. Not quite American, which is what being Canadian is all about, right? Best friends who fight crime. And I think they have to have a dog. Oh man, it’s Nick and Nora with Asta. So it’s a little bit Thin Man now, too. Not really a formalized detective agency. But someone who finds themselves surrounded by a lot of people and called upon for answers. Like Poirot, who seems to know everyone, and not just everyone in England, but the rest of Europe, too. Everyone knows him and knows what he does. It’s not bad luck that a murder always happens when Poirot is in town. It’s just that Poirot is who people call when bad things happen. Oh man, new Sherlock, too. That’s got to be another reason I’m thinking about this. I wonder if I should add a mystery plot to the novel. I should add something anyway.

It’s just sad now. Have I given up? I can’t tell. I have a week to catch up. I started out strong. The second week, I plodding along. The third week was a complete wash. Maybe I can save something during week four. I’m still incredibly proud of the 14k I have written. I just wish I had more words. I did not succeed in silencing my inner editor. I did not succeed in killing my outer procrastinator. It’s just so much easier to pull up a story to read or a TV show to watch at the end of the night. I don’t even have a comfortable place to sit and work. I need a real chair to go with my desk. I need less stuff. I need some time to decongest and dispose and donate and anything else I can do to get this place cleaned up.

I can’t keep my eyes open tonight, which means I need to sleep, but I don’t want us to lose this streak. I’m already staring to lose words. I know they’re around here somewhere. I didn’t like to see the mess. We’re going into interesting territory here. I’m just going keep typing and as my ideas reach out, they get mixed up along the way and make no sense on the page. I want to go back and see what kind of crazy stuff came out of my fingers and behalf of the world.