And then there's a bad day. A truly trying bad day. A day where you wish you could just go back to bed and leave it all. A day where the reset button is just not available. Everyone in my family seems to be climbing the walls today, and I think I led the charge.
I guess it's inevitable. I edited 3 1/2 chapters yesterday and now I'm just lost in the mix of everything. Stuck in limbo. All while this close to the end.
I have 4 chapters left to edit and then the re-write. I'm this close to the climax and now I'm just avoiding the world. Oh to be a hermit.
I am again on the precipice, right on the edge of finishing. Feels a lot like the edge of oblivion. How does one hold on and stay the course? When I am writing, I am excited, eager, and I move at whatever pace is necessary. But when I'm not writing, I feel this glorious weight. The weight of Atlas.
Technically, I do have a world on my shoulders. The world of my novel. I guess it's a heavier weight than I thought it would be. I'm sure with each draft, it will either get heavier or lighter. I'm not sure which. We shall see.
Until then, let's just pretend this conversation never happened and I'll get back to my editing.
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