A good writing week is worth its weight in gold. Since Monday last I have written about 6,500 words on the current ms, which might not sound like much but believe me it's a good week for me. I think they're keepers too, the words I mean. So many of them will end up - I know even as I write - in the recycle bin, but not this week's wonderful little creations (or so I tell myself to ward off depression).

No, I finally feel like I'm getting somewhere with this one.

I think I owe my recent relief from the writing doldrums to my decision to just finish this draft by the end of September. Just finish the draft and worry about how bad it is after that. I heard Jenny Crusie advise this very thing back in August at the RWA conference, but did I listen? Well, I listened but I was so focussed on the conflict box thing and making every scene say something and not dawdling around with the boring bits that I felt compelled to go back and fix what I'd written so far. Not all this effort was wasted, but much of it was I now realise. Many of those changed scenes are now going to be cut altogether. I'm going to go back and put some scenes that I deleted back in. This in mind, I would have been better forging ahead and finishing the damned thing and then fixing it up. It's one thing to know this logically, another to fight the compulsion to self-edit a work in progress while it's still in bloody progress! When will I learn this?

 

Fingers crossed by the time the next manuscript begins.