I hit 100 pages, which is a good number. It was my minimum goal for the novella.
I very nearly have a bad draft: there's just the Climactic Space Battle and a few words of denouement to go. Which hopefully I can finish tomorrow, because I would like to be done with this draft now.
Once upon a time I would have pushed on, forced myself to keep writing and finish it tonight. But once upon a time, I wasn't aware on as many levels what I was putting on the page... and it also hadn't really settled in yet that I was going to be doing it for the rest of my life. At that point, I had stories clawing over themselves to get out of my head, and I felt like I had to hurry up and write them before Something Awful happened. Now, I have to go out after the stories, hunt them down, club them over the head, and drag them back--sometimes in pieces.
I used to write a heck of a lot faster than I do now, a lot more fluidly. Now, I'm, much more aware of everything that's going into the writing, and it's slower and more painstaking--that 2055 words was the product of an entire day's work, more than 16 hours--but I got it done and I'm happy to have it. Some of this, I think, is the result of the workshop experience I've had lately--I've become very aware of all the different ways there are to tell and interpret the same story, all the different ways you can English the ball. And until I internalize that, the writing is going to be laborious. Conscious competence. It's kind of hard.
But we'll get through it.
After I finish this story, I have to write four essays this week, and then I'm going to give myself a little break and see if I can't get excited about "The Red in the Sky is Our Blood" and Chill. I was thinking about going for a run tomorrow morning, but I will get more work done if I roll out of bed and hit the computer, and I also won't wear myself out (or potentially re-injure my toe) for climbing.