There are ten weeks left before RWA Nationals and I've done the math on what I need to do in order to have a completed first draft done. (And reaffirmed that doing the math is never a sign of something pleasant.) I've got 57k done, and there will likely be another 50 to 60k for the manuscript. So that means I need to do at least 5-6k every week and realistically, I should be aiming for 6-7k each week, because not every word that I write deserves to be kept.
When I first started, I thought I might be able to achieve 2k per day on weekdays. If I had my scheduled 2 hours each day, then 2000 words is a possibility. But I rarely get my full two hours. Things nibble into that margin and I usually lose at least half an hour.
I'm fighting a bit of give-up-itis. It's actually kind of impressive how far my brain can go down the cascade of failures: I'll never get it done. Even if I get it done, it won't be good. Even if I think it's good, agents and editors won't want it. Even if they want it, book sales are down... so on and so on. I think I eventually get to the point where I'm hiding alone and unloved in a basement somewhere, having been exposed as a total fraud and hack.
Here's the thing: I know this is all garbage. My goals are still achievable and while there's plenty out of my control, the parts that are under my control are very do-able. So I'm going to go ahead and register to pitch to agents and editors at RWA and then it's going to be up to fate and the gods about what happens next. But I refuse to let the dark little voice inside my head win. It's stolen enough of my life with its false predictions.
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