Four days of stewing

Monday morning today, and I followed what's getting to be my routine. About 100 minutes of work this time, creeping up on a scene that seems ripe for development and then drafting a bunch of new material there--about 850 words. I'm doing it with more confidence--more of an idea about what end it is contributing to. I just wish I could sustain it for longer. It's going to take forever to finish this book.

I didn't work on it since Thursday morning, but it was on my mind all the time. It's hard to explain what that feels like. It's like I'm taking frequent little nibbles, each nibble being the working out of a small problem with a scene, moving each of a thousand pieces a little bit more in alignment with the rest, and then pushing it away for awhile until I feel hungry for another nibble. It's all happening more or less unconsciously and without deliberation. I just find myself contemplating some episode in the book again without intending to. I don't know why it makes its way into my thoughts.

But I'm glad it does. It makes me feel like I'm being productive even during the times when I'm not writing. It feels like real progress.