Sometimes you have to actually just write stuff

9:53pm

Finally had a proper chunk of editing. Am now at just over 50% of betas comments processed and applied where necessary yay!

Wish I had the energy to feel more triumphant about it…it’s a Thing, definitely Yay-worthy, but I’m So. Tired. Definitely could have just gone to sleep an hour earlier instead. But sometimes Writer Self has to actually gain the upper hand or she’ll cease to exist. So now she can happily wave her little flag of success while the rest of me is still questioning whether I was wise to stay up this “late”.

My glands are threatening to be up. I’m wearing a hat indoors (it’s not mine. It proudly proclaims “Saracens”, though I have no idea who they are or even which sport they play. Husband got it as a free gift from some Thing he went to a while back. But it will hopefully help me not get yet another cold…). Even the contented purring of beloved Feline #1 just behind my head can barely pierce the gloom of fatigue.

Since Mumming I always feel super guilty about going to bed late and tired. It feels like shooting myself in the foot just before a long hike.

But I actually care about this book. I want to see it through. I’ve written the book that I first started when I was thirteen. It’s the only story I’ve ever wanted to tell, and it’s come along with me all these years, grown up with me and popped up at the oddest moments.

I finally began my first proper draft three months after C4 was born, sitting nursing in the dark and typing on my phone with one hand. I want to give it a chance. And sometimes that means feeling like death. Guilty death 👀