Just now as I was commenting on a friend's blog, I started thinking... and I think there only a couple ways to go right now - either a person writes like mad to keep the jackals away or the jackals overwhelm them to a point where they can't write.
I was in the latter place for most of this year. Obviously, that wasn't working for me. Sales sucked. My writing suffered. And the jackals were never satisfied.
Now I'm in the former place. I think.
Anyway, I'm writing. I'm climbing toward the climax of this novel as fast as my little fingers can take me. Last night, I cranked out over 3100 words and rolled over 40K words by a good margin. That's the most I've written in a single sitting since forever. The best I did last year was 2400+ words last May, when I forced myself to sit down and work on Cinder Ugly. (That lasted like 3 days and then I fell apart again.)
Of course, I'm throwing things out there I never intended to. There's no basis for it. There's no groundwork laid ahead of time. It's a hot mess. But it fits in the grand scheme. I'll have to go back and edit the earlier stuff so it makes sense. Hey, that's what edits are for.
I feel good about this. In a spot where I feel good about little else. Will the rest of the world meet Duke Noble with the same excitement? :shrug: I can't worry about the rest of the world right now. I can only worry about this. And write like mad to keep the jackals at bay.
Not sure what'll happen when this book is finished. I'll dive into edits and hope that works the same as writing like mad. Then I''ll work on publishing. Then? Maybe Duke will talk to me some more. Maybe Dennis Haggarty will put his foot down. Maybe the gang at the SCIU will demand their place again.
Whether you're pushing to keep the jackals away or hiding from the little bastards, it's okay. We all do what we have to do to survive right now. Hang in there as best you can. :hugs: