The other part, of course, is that I always feel guilty if I sound at all whiny on the blog because, hey, I'm getting paid to write. This is so ridiculous and awesome I still sometimes shake my head in utter incredulity when it hits me.
But The Sequel was tricky. Part of it was the pressure (turns out writing sequels is tough, yo), and part of it was that, unlike when I was writing my previous books, I couldn't get obsessed. There were too many other things tugging at my attention, too many times I had to stop to go tweak something on Paranormalcy, or get something back to Erica. But eventually I got a working first draft.
Problem: It was short. Way, way too short. And lately, when I sat down to edit, it was with this gnawing dread in my stomach that I wouldn't know what to add or how to make what I had (which was good) become more cohesive (and therefore much better).
Then, Saturday, as I stood in a shower that was both way too hot and way too long, it hit me.
The solution. THE SOLUTION.
I think that feeling is one of the best in writing. Whether a new idea hits you, or you break past a stumbling block, or you figure out that scene--that one scene--that opens up the rest of the story like magic. And just like that I was excited again. Instead of dreading the work, I couldn't wait to get to the library. Over the course of the weekend I met my manuscript word count goal. And lo, there was much rejoicing and relief in the land.
What's funny is that I had the opposite problem with Paranormalcy--I had to cut ten thousand words from that one before it was ready to be seen. I had to add ten thousand words to The Sequel. I never make the same mistake twice--I keep coming up with new and innovative ways to really screw things up!
It's a talent, what can I say.
Anyway. The point of this is, writing is hard. It's always hard. But the real point of this is that, even though it's hard, I'm having fun again. And staying up way too late, which triggers my kids' Instinctive Sleep Alarms, forcing them to wake up once an hour every hour for the precious few hours I actually spend in bed.
Why is it that the better my writing is going, the bigger the bags under my eyes?