Some weeks are better than others. Some weeks bring professional satisfaction, sunny days, a cooperative muse.
Other weeks just kick you in the teeth.
This has been one of the teeth-kicking weeks, but it is over. That light at the end of the tunnel wasn't an oncoming train. It was a way out of this terrible week. Or it was a bartender holding a Spanish coffee, the blue flame of burning 151-proof rum lighting my way to the weekend.
Either way, it's a three-day weekend. And it's a good time for an extra day off from my day job, too. I've been writing very steadily and all of a sudden I realized that I'm actually pretty close to the end of my work in progress. The last few days weren't good for much, but I did get inspired to take out my frustrations on imaginary people.
I'm not there yet, but I have momentum. This is an odd feeling, since I feel like I've been wading through mud for the last few months on this project. Now suddenly, my characters have grown, they have uncovered clues, they are figuring out the mystery. They're running out of things to do, which I am pretty sure means the book is about to end. I'm not entirely sure about that. I haven't been here before.
My strategy of writing daily and focusing on one WIP at a time is working, even though I'm totally breaking the second rule because when I'm stuck on the main novel, I've been writing on the novella project. And that one is also getting close to the end. It's working, even when I hate most of the words I'm writing.
With three days off, I am looking forward to keeping my momentum going. There's that light again, blinking in the distance. At the end, I'll either have a finished book or a mug of coffee, mixed with Kahlua, rum and triple sec and with a rim of caramelized sugar.