I’m so worn out that I’m numb.
Current page count stands at 219; word count stands at 53,575. Everything except that final page in Chapter 2 exists. There are two prayers and one ritual that I may or may not write and include tomorrow, for the sake of completion.
I hate this part of writing, the part where I can’t keep on going and include all the wonderful things that I want to include. The line has to be drawn somewhere.
This is the point where I look at what I’ve got and think There, I’ve done it. But at the same time I’m a bit sad, because the actual tangible written product never fully resembles what I envisioned at the beginning of the process. And because I’m a perfectionist, as t! pointed out to me earlier today, I have a tendency to look for what’s not there as opposed to all the wonderful stuff that is there. I’m the creator of this particular piece: I see the masking tape, the wires that fly the actor across the stage, and not the magic that others will see in it.
Tomorrow morning, I’ll finish that section on rites of passage in Chapter 2. Then at noon, no later, I’ll start at the beginning of the MS and go through it line by line for omissions and notes to myself, places I’ve marked to smooth out, and bits I’ve marked as possible deletions. I’ll check the bibliography, and the appendices for all the right references.
And then it’s done. One more work day, and then it’s done.
I’m so very tired. But then, writing a book will do that.