As BP is fond of teasing/encouraging me - I really am on the home stretch of the novel, first shitty draft and all. I worked hard yesterday on other stuff and as a result by the time I sat down to write last night I was weary. But I churned out over 4,000 words so that between today and tomorrow I have 2800 words left to type. I can do this. I will do this. I even know where the story is going in its remaining pages so that's a bonus.
This afternoon I'm having tea with a writer friend who is one of my biggest cheerleaders in this life. Yesterday as we were talking about the novel and I was telling her how I could just delete sections that were crap, she told me that nothing of it was wasted, that I had put in the time and discipline and that the characters, all of them who showed up, were a gift. So last night when the story took yet another detour I simply kept typing and waited to see what would happen next. Whenever I discuss the plot line and all the possible 'what ifs' with Youngest Son he tells me that I am a mean person.....mean to my characters and a little deranged to boot. Which just makes me smile. But then, you all knew I was a little deranged already didn't you?