Novel status report:
Finished cleaning up scenes 22 and 23 (out of 41) last night. They went much smoother than I’d expected, and instead of cutting half of one and rewriting the whole of the other (what I’d been expecting) I massaged in a twist I’d been playing with and it made everything work.
Since this is my first novel everything feels new. I’m the puppy, spinning about wildly, seeing spring for the first time and not wanting to miss any of it. I have to wonder if I’ll end up some mellow, staid breed (once I grow up) or if I’ll be more like Joule, perennially excited at each new glimmer, change and opportunity.
The latter sounds like the better path for an artist, but just now it also sounds very inefficient and exhausting (did I already say we had our first winter bug sweep through the house this last week? I was blessed to escape with only a headache, but everyone else has had it worse.)
I had a spike in my sense of urgency to finish this animal, but realized it doesn’t make a lot of difference in my time available. I’m choosing to be content with regular progress rather than moving toward hand-flapping urgency that can’t accomplish anything anyway.
Wow, that sounds mature. (Right? Right?)