Somewhere out there is the end. The place where my final draft rests. That shaft of light breaking through the darkening sky is hope. It's telling me not to give up. It's telling me that the iron sea of doubt is the trickiest obstacle I have to conquer. Those mountains in the distance can be climbed; their peaks puncture the clouds and their summits are sprinkled with success. Bring me my swimming trunks of self belief. Bring me my crampons of determination.
September 4th. Third draft. Chapter Five. Fifteen weeks until Christmas. Tick tock, tick tock. Feeling the pressure.
I'm going to try working in two week blocks (see blog entry How long does it take to Write a Novel? - 16.07.11). Two weeks on each chapter to redraft and edit. And I'll post fortnightly updates on my progress detailing any frustrations / tips / life-changing discoveries.
Back in two weeks with a report on chapter five.
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