I did some good work this past weekend! I wrote a lot of words, and I took a manuscript that was barely a quarter finished to three quarters done. I have three chapters left to write. Maybe four, depending on the words that actually happen. It’s a day’s work, maybe a little more, and I’m really excited to finish this story.
I’m kind of in love with these guys, which isn’t a surprise, because I always fall a little bit in love with whomever I’m writing. I’m digging their story, and I really like that I’m in the groove, the zone, and the words are flowing easily. After having gone so long with real life getting in the way, making things difficult, and stressing me out so the words just didn’t happen, it was really nice just to sit down and write. And with the story so close to being done, and me being able to see how the rest of it goes, I’m anxious to get it down on the page.
Not in the least because if I can manage that within the next week, I’ll have met my original deadline despite life conspiring and that pleases me.
Of course, I’m also at the point that always and inevitably happens. That point where I’m second guessing every choice I’ve made with these guess, overthinking every plot point, and absolutely convinced it’s a crap story. I’m kind of constantly reminding myself that I have people who will read it before I send it to the publisher, and those people will tell me what needs fixing. And I can fix it.
(There’s also another element here, where I’m terrified of disappointing, as well as it being the third book, which is almost always, without fail, my favorite in a series, so there’s internal pressure I’m trying very hard not to succumb to.)
At any rate, I did very well on my writing quest, and that included interruptions this time. I’m in the home stretch. So hopefully in the next few weeks I’ll have a completed manuscript in the publisher’s hands, and I might be able to tell you when it’s going to hit the shelves.
I’ll do my damnedest anyway.