Slogging through a bog, getting sips of strawberry lemonade.

So far with the writing project, it’s been writing by hand while out ‘n’ about, then getting around to typing that writing up by hand on the computer. Doing some editing in that process, especially hiting spots of leaning into the notes and thinking “Wha-a-at the heck?” and reinterpreting.

Finished up typing up manuscript up to the end of May. Broke 127,000 words, still in the middle chapter.

Neil Gaiman, a writer I like in interviews but have never read, said in an interview that waiting for inspiration to strike is something for poets. Novelists need to sit and be at task or it’ll never get done. That’s echoed by a LOT of writers. I’m finding that to be true.

Haven’t had Writer’s Block, but DO suffer from acute Writer’s Avoidance. Finding distractions to keep from the physical effort.

And it is often dreary typing up notes, not liking what I’m going over. But then a gem or scene or description comes on that I like and it’s a relief. Promise of the project restored.

I’m really getting excited for the process of revision after the First Draft is done. It’ll be a while from now, and it’ll be brutal, but the prospect of slimming this thing down to something elegant makes me antsy and happy.