282 / 400
Well, that magical thing has happened. The turning point, the alchemical process whereby one discovers that oh, good god, I have a hundred and fifty pages left to write, this will never get done has converted to holy hell, there are only one hundred eighteen pages left to go in this book, how am I going to cram all this stuff in?
Magically, somehow, it usually goes. Even if it feels like the Vonnegut definition of a blivet (five pounds of shit in a two-pound sack) beforehand.
It looks as though I made mad progress today, and I did--24 pages!--but a good two and a half thousand words of that was a scene I managed to excise almost entirely from the Old Book and slot neatly into this one. It needed a good deal of revising, mind you, to the tune of three or four hours of grovelling through painful nitpicky edits, but it is done. And hey, if there's any karmic debt incurred in stealing from one's self, I think I can afford to pay it.
Other things I have noticed: same-sex rape scenes? even more pronoun-unfriendly than regular same-sex sex scenes.
Another thing I have noticed: I am really mean to my characters. I mean, assisted suicide and assault in one day is kind of a busy afternoon.
A third thing: There's a lot of walking around looking at trees all of a sudden.