I am tired. It may be wine tired or mind tired, perhaps both. Today was a long one. We spent quite a lot of time on the road and made minor progress in the things that mattered. We are making progress and that is the thing that matters the most. My fatigue doesn’t carry a physical vector, because the movement was a low for my time here. I needed that low–that lull in heavy steps. It gives my leg time to heal, if only partially. I don’t know what is wrong there, but after a 10 mile day the pain is enough to keep me awake through the night. It is a problem that needs to be fixed, but until I know what it is or where, specifically, I cannot learn if it even can be fixed. It may be a swelling issue tied to a tear, or rupture, or some such malady that is unfixable. In the meantime. I still walk.
And write.
Another chapter toppled. 5 remaining. I think I have a very good handle on the flow of the thing along with the perfect beach workspace far removed from all things internet. I live there now. Every morning belongs to this work and I am doing a bang on job of getting it out Five more days, if I can keep the pace. Five more days and then a day of editing or perhaps two and the book goes back off to the editor. We will see what happens next.
What I fear most is that a recently released book may be mirroring the ending I wrote. If that is the case, it is going to be another long rewrite… perhaps the book dies right there. No use worrying over what-ifs. Write, love, move the heck on.
This is the way.