I’m 84% done with my novel. It’s hard. I’m looking forward to getting it done and behind me. The funny thing is this reminds me of some of my motorcycle trips. When I get back I just about uniformly I’m pissed off. Just ask Ennie.
Now I’m looking at this just waiting for it to be over with.
The funny thing is that a week or two afterward I always look back at it and smile. Why the hell do I keep doing this to myself?
I guess I’m just a gluton for punishment.
I’ll let you know next year I guess. :-)