I have not kept to my writing schedule. I missed my first deadline -- that of finishing up draft III -- by one day. Since then, I haven't accomplished any more goals, aside from the milestone that was printing the entire thing out (using an entire ink cartridge) so I could edit it without my computer. (My laptop is stationary, so I can't type anywhere but at my desk.) I also bought myself a very nice red pen.
I am disappointed at not making more progress, but I've realized that doing quality work is more important to me than passing deadlines. Perhaps this is a direct result of skipping NaNoWriMo this last year. But I think it's good in that the novel itself has become more important to me than finishing. I just happen to be in a place where meeting other deadlines has to take precedence, or schoolwork, theater, and other projects won't happen. And so, to do well, I have to wait.
Still, the important thing is moving forward. I do need to pick up my pen and start drenching my pages in blood, erm, ink. I need to push at it. Right now, I have no idea when I'm going to finish. And I want to finish. I want to have accomplished something, I want to be happy with the biggest writing project I've ever taken on. And I want, if possible, to have it published.
It has a long way to go. I can't rush it if it's going to have a chance at succeeding. But I do need to work on it.
For now, theater and homework have quieted down. Time to dive back in.
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