I did it.
I finished the second first draft of my WIP.
Yep. Wrote the last sentence. The last in-line note.
So why don’t I feel like whooping and hollaring?
“Because you know you aren’t done with it.” My Muse hands me a blue foil-wrapped Mozart chocolate–oooh, the good kind–and a champagne flute not filled with bubbly. I taste it. Moscato. That works for me. “Now you’ve got a manuscript to tweak.”
“Why can’t I take a day off?”
“Because, love, you had a cold and already took a day off. You wandered off on a mental walkabout. That also counts as a day.” He opens the top drawer of my writing desk, retrieves half a ream of paper with printing on it, and drops it with a thud on my desk. “You’ve got a direction with this. You don’t need many changes, just some tweaks. By the time you finish, your WIP should be cooled off. You can start fresh with it.”
“Look, I’ve got chores that I’ve put off for, er, oh boy. I need to catch up with those. I think I saw one of the cats being chased by a monster dust bunny last night. I can’t have monster dust bunnies running loose. Pretty sure that’s what vacuum cleaners are for. And have you see the cobwebs in the bathroom? I think they’re using soap scum to reinforce their ramparts.”
He leans against my desk, arms crossed on his fine chest. “You know, I’m impressed. You’ve been writing for at least an hour, usually two, every day since NaNoWriMo started, except for the holidays, of course. You’ve pulled back from some of your online stuff, and focused on your WIP. You did good, love. You need to keep the momentum going.”
*Grumble* I drop into my chair. He’s right, of course. I, however, know I need a break. Just a day, maybe two. Long enough to switch gears from my WIP back into my manuscript. Long enough to catch up with a few chores, make some pumpkin bread, and take a deep breath or three. “I’m going to take a day. Some of it tonight, some tomorrow. Maybe even all day the next day. Deal with it.”
He frowns. “You are not going to take a break from writing the entire weekend. I’ll give you tonight and part of tomorrow. I’ll even concede to some time on Monday after work. But the whole weekend? No way.”
I lean back in my chair. He’s still wearing the fisherman’s sweater from the coffee meeting. I really like him in a nice sweater; hell, I like him in just about anything. Or noth–stop. Do not go there. “Okay. How about this–I’ve got to get back to my MeetYourMainCharacter crew; I’ve been in radio silence a bit too long. I’ll write up my assigned blog posts for second quarter and set reminders to send them out in a couple months. That’s writing.”
“Splitting hairs, more like. Your April deadline is only two months away. You want to pitch your WIP, you need to keep your head in the game. That means no days off, and no walkabouts. I will be doggin’ your ass at every turn. Capiche?”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
To my blogging friends on the East Coast, stay safe during the snowstorm. We’re going to be within spitting distance of 32 degrees F on Sunday. Woo-hoo! Sure beats the -7 F highs we had last weekend.
Have a great weekend, everyone. Keep writing!