Progress.

For all the time I spent trying to plot and plan and organize, the one thing I was avoiding above all else was actually writing. I would write about how I was going to write. I would write about planning to write.

This week, I changed that, and I'm feeling much better for it. It's not perfect, and that's fine. Rough drafts don't have to be perfect. They just have to be there. Nobody carved the Venus de Milo out of a block of marble using a tiny rock pick. Sledge hammers were involved in the early stages. Right now, for this story? It's hammer time.

I'm not going to spend a lot of time tweaking the details of what I'm writing. I'm getting the point across and pushing on through. If I need to go back and add, delete, and whatnot, I can do that AFTER THE DAMNED STORY IS WRITTEN. I've spent so much time messing around with the little stuff--and this goes for pretty much every story I've ever written--that I never finished anything. I got caught up in the details, as I'm apt to do, and I hadn't gotten out until just recently.

And if I get stuck on one part, I know I can just pick up somewhere else. Like a test. I'm not going to stop at question #6 and just wait there until I know the answer before moving on to question #7. I'm just going to answer the next one I know. And who knows? Those later questions might just give me the clues I need to go back and answer all the ones I skipped. I'm sure the metaphor breaks down at some point, but screw it--it makes enough sense right now that I'm happy with it.

I think I'm done for today. If I feel the urge, I'll pick it back up, but for now? Done. I think I left off at a good place and I don't necessarily need to start up on the next part. Better to sit back and let this one settle. Digest a bit.

Things are finally starting to come together.