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.

Having a hard time getting into the noveling zone this week. Most of my writing time this month has involved work that is not related to The Glass Doll. And, thanks to some fine weather and a lot of consulting gigs for Shane, I’ve spent almost as much time at the playground as I have at my laptop. As a result, I am further from finishing the second draft than I’d planned.

It’s always a good thing to have money coming in, and I never regret a single moment spent running through tunnels with Cass. But my novel and its characters feel distant to me. Is it odd to miss imaginary people? To feel guilty for neglecting them?

Enough stalling. I shall go visit them now.