I’m working away over here. Juggling, shifting, re-calibrating, re-writing. Plotting out the story in a more deliberate way this time.

I woke up at 3:30 am this morning, head whirling with ideas about the ending. These characters have burrowed deep under my skin; I can’t let the story go now, despite the moments of anxiety.

And speaking of anxiety: I’m not thinking about word count, or even about how many more months this will take to finish. Can’t face either of those things just now.

Rather, I’m letting myself enjoy the process. To revel in it, even. It’s astonishing the power writers have to craft an entire world, to play the role of puppet master. I dare say, it’s quite a lot of fun.

I’ve realized too that there is a tremendous sense of freedom on this side of the fence, the space that exists before a book is done and ready to be made public, evaluated, judged. Once that line has been crossed, at some point in the future, everything will change.

This is a good place to be. For now.