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Stuck on Merry. My own fault. I took the weekend off. I know better when a book is close to the end. But tomorrow I will go to the new office and spread it all out on a table. I’ll write long hand. I’m in the end game. I know where we’re going and what we’re doing with some plot variations. But it will take some long hand brain sweat to get it going again.
What did I do since I was like way stuck? I allowed myself to work some more on the next Anita book. The one after DANSE MACABRE. I’ve got about a hundred pages of it. I reread what I’d done up to that point. Made some minor changes and wrote about four more pages. It felt so good to write on it. So very good. This book is so ready to go. It’s like trying to restrain a horse that wants to run. You can feel it quivering underneath you. Feel it’s muscles straining. Feel it asking you to give it, it’s head. To just let it run. I want to let it run. I want to slack the reins and let this horse go. I want to ride as fast as it can go, and feel the world rush by. But not yet, not yet. Have to hold the reins tight for a little longer. Almost done with Merry, alright, like a hundred to two hundred pages almost done. That’s almost done for me, last third of the book.
Strangely, though, even though I let myself work on Anita. It seemed to knock something loose and I think I can work on Merry tomorrow. Good.