Kim Neville

I’m almost done the first draft of as-yet-unnamed changeling novel. And I’m reluctant to get to the end. Not sure why. Maybe because once I do I’ll have to acknowledge the messiness and incompleteness of what I’ve made. That while I may have arrived at the story’s end, I’m far from finished.

I’ve used a few disruptions to my routine as excuses to put off the work. It’s been almost a week since I’ve written a word. As a result, I am grumpy. Because the only thing worse than slogging through the last ten thousand words is not doing so and missing my deadline. I hate letting myself down.

So. Enough grumbling. Back to work.

Weeks like this are a challenge: warm weather, cloudless skies, cherry trees in bloom and my city alive with wild Olympic energy. It’s extremely hard to remain disciplined, stay indoors and work. The only way I can manage it is by bribing myself with a tea latte at the Corner Cup Cafe and the promise of an afternoon walk on the beach with Cassandra.