The final footrace
70k. I’m definitely winding things down, and just in time. This happens every time to me: as I get closer to the end, I start getting tired of working on the fool thing. More and more is pinned in place, the choices are now incidental, not consequential, and as a result I think my brain starts going “well, we’re done here, time to move along.” But it’s NOT done. I may have another ten thousand words to shovel into this iteration (I don’t like calling things drafts, it gives them complexes). Or perhaps five thousand. But it’s not getting done tomorrow, or the next day, even if my creative energies are ready to put their feet up on the sofa and kick back for a little bit before revising.