Finishing is hard

With the recent time alone and many snatched moments here and there, I’m drawing into the last couple rough draft chapters of the new book. This is fantastic, since I wasn’t expecting to get this much done in the first year of our beautiful daughter’s life.

It’s weird, though, because as I conclude each of the three POV characters’ chapters, I’m feeling a bit of hesitation that I doffed a long time ago in the book. I realized earlier that if I agonize about getting everything “right,” I’ll never get it done and it still won’t be perfect. Since then I have managed to put aside concerns about the quality of the rough draft in favor of getting it done.

But oddly these last few chapters there’s that sneaking sense that I need to nail it. Which is strange, since endings are among the harder parts to get right. Beginnings may be the only harder thing. That and middles. Well, I guess it’s all hard and expecting anything to drip flawless from my pen is unreasonable.

Besides, it’s not as if anyone will see this first handwritten scribble anyway. There’s a full round of typing and polishing between me and anyone having the chance to critique. So why am I worrying when I should be writing? Why am I not writing now? Oh right, because it’s time for bed.