I'm about sixty pages into LH2 as we speak. Which means I'm doing a lot of this:
Tough life.
Meanwhile, you know you're on the right track with a rough draft when you finish a scene, reread it, and then realize, "Oh dear God, this is a mess." It's easy to forget how messy and all over the place rough drafts are. They're pretty much the equivalent of a puppy who had not been house-trained and just drank a gallon of water and is dancing all over your imported Turkish rugs. Endearing, but a lot of work. Especially when your end goal is to make it a top-rated show dog.
Okay, off to clean some metaphorical pee from my manuscript. Or cyber-stalk Kate Middleton. Both count as work, right?
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