I talked with Laura tonight about what to do post-November 30th. I told her that I had hoped to continue to devote nights to continuing to work on this first draft . . . just not every night. And that once the draft was done, I'd take a longer break from it. And she was totally cool with that. So that's what'll happen.
I really feel like my writing right now is biding time until I figure out how to get around the blocks I've set up in my plot. I seem to have no problem churning out the words — a dinner conversation can really eat up that quota, you know — but I'm not sure that much of it will stick around. I tell myself that at least I'm getting to know my characters and hit my quota, but that is just so unsatisfying, I can't even tell you.
When I compared this to a marathon, I had no idea how right I would be. I am so in miles 20-25 now, the ones that were torture. Once I hit mile 25 and I knew I could finish, I was able to fly and find some joy. Will that happen when I cross, say, 48,000 words?
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