Every bit gets us closer to a draft, even if an actual sentence I wrote today goes as follows:
The old ways--the old respect--it might no longer be enforced with terror, but enough of it lingered that he did not entirely [blah blah blah he holds out some creepy droit de seignure hope for humanity].
Yeah, I'll figure it out later. Apparently, as I get more comfortable with this professional writer on closed course thing, I also embrace It's a draft it can suck with absolutely preternatural enthusiasm.
Besides, I'm just going to rewrite it anyway. Probably close to twenty times. It'll be fine by the time you see it.
...oh, wait, I just showed it to you, didn't I?
Well, you'll be stunned by the makeover transformation. I promise you. Because I got on paper what I meant: I can make it pretty later.
335 / 400 pages. 84% done!