No, I don’t know why I’m talking like this.
At any rate, a mere 93 pages (as of the instant of writing this) remains! How in the hell is all of this going to get wrapped up in 93 pages? I wrote it and even I’m not real sure. Surely there’s another 300 pages or so hidden away that I forgot about? It’s hard to believe, but if I do 20 pages a day the first read through will be done this very week! I don’t, though, do 20 pages a day. So really that was a meaningless sentence. Fuck, if I rewrote 467 pages a day then this process would only take eight hours.
The sad fact is that my pesky Past Self is the one in control of how fast I can do this. The number of times he said, “Oh screw this, we’ll just iron all that out in the rewrites. Forward!” is the one and only factor deciding how quickly I can rewrite. I do know, however, that we’re over the ridiculously sticky middle part where Past Self was just tossing ideas out like some evil James Bond villain to see just how insane he could drive Future Self during these rewrites. That is done. I actually know the plot of my book now. It’s a good feeling.
All that is left is to insert the remaining needed plot points while keeping a rudder on the various personalities and then overlaying it all with a veneer of poetic working.
Which is probably the most clinical description of the creative process you’ll ever see.
But for now our hero steps away from his keyboard and orders Indian food.
And it is good.