The writing of the last book feels like a dream. It came so easily. Yeah, there's rewrites to do but I'm looking forward to those.

This new book is like pulling teeth almost. I kind of know the story, and then something happens and I realize I don't know where this is heading. And yet I can't set it aside, either. Frustrating.

I've never written like this before. It's irritating, exhilarating, freeing to not constrain myself to formula or expectation. Because that's what rewrites are for.

Still, this next book is an aftermath of a growth spurt. I'm thinking this one will take two months, and that's if I'm incredibly disciplined with myself.

I've never been good at self-discipline...