Night before last, I sat up until 3AM and finally caught up my word count-- in fact I got an entire day ahead. Tonight I realized that I was going to fall behind again, so I bit the bullet. When Sònia went off to bed, I stayed up and made myself write until I was caught up again.
I actually think I'm going to make it. I think I know how the book is going to end, although I am not discarding the idea of some new plot twist injecting itself at the eleventh hour.
I can't express what an awesome experience this has been so far. I have had to dredge up memories I had not thought about for ages. Parts of the book are starting to connect together in weird, magical ways. I'm also starting to really notice the craft of other writers-- I was reading a passage from The Lord Of The Rings the other night and was struck by how much of what Tolkein wrote had nothing to do with moving the story forward and everything to do with setting up environment and helping develop the characters.
I've gotten so cocky that I told my dad about writing this thing and he offered to edit it. My initial reaction was to accept but internally reject this idea-- I mean, what's my dad going to say about all the parts that involve genitalia? But then I thought, how many guys get to do something like this with their dads. So I guess the first person who will read my book will be my dad, if I finish it. Which I will.