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As I start putting big writing blocks on my calendar over the next couple of weekends, and a longer one on weeknights, I feel both the imagined relief at finishing a “readable” draft as well as the real urgency of having three weeks to get it out the door.

Okay, to be honest, I’m not acting that urgently yet, but I am trying to pick up my pace so I don’t have to crank out 30K words in ten days like back in the spring . . . that’s one reason the latter half of this story is taking longer to edit in the first place.

I added about 6,000 words this week, hovering right around 45K of the rewritten material. My original draft clocked in just under 70K but I anticipate this one being a little longer . . . but when I put it like that it does seem like I should pick up the pace.

Some back of napkin math for kicks: 18 days to go, approx 30K ish words left, means 1,600 words/day to stay on track.

Okay, that’s not terrifying. Not yet. Yay for self-imposed deadlines.

Here are the last sentences I wrote from this past week:

  • 8/6: But I understood what Jules meant.
  • 8/7: And I can’t know, but I bet Jules was thinking the exact same thing. 
  • 8/8: Owe you for what? 
  • 8/9: It’s crooked now! 
  • 8/10: Not you. 
  • 8/11: A terrifying chord inside of me screams yes
  • 8/12: That was real too. 

With Love,
Natalie