Ugh. I am suffering all kinds of inability to manage my time this week. This has not been helped by a decision to revisit all my account passwords and make sure there isn't any critical overlap happening. I have A LOT of internet accounts.
Neither has it been helped by Australia Post's fine efforts, which included directing me to the wrong branch to pick up my parcel, the staff at the wrong branch first telling me the parcel had not yet arrived and please to come back tomorrow and then, when I came back tomorrow, belatedly informing me to please head elsewhere. At the right branch (an expedition to find which involved maps, no less), the guy behind the desk spent a good five minutes staring at the docket and sucking on his teeth, as if committing one name and address took a prodigious effort, and at last ventured into the (closet-sized) back room (which held all of three packages) with an expression like a man looking for a needle in a haystack.
Meanwhile, I'm still stuck in the awful head-space of trying to fix the holes in the faerie novel, spurred on partly by the fact that I seem to have 70,000 odd words of (dreadful) alpha draft and no actual narrative impetus yet. This has been worrying me a bit, because if that's the 70% mark then I should be getting that rushing toward the end feeling, which has been decidedly lacking.
The solution, it turns out, is simple: obviously the novel will be about 120,000 words long and thus, I'm only just over halfway and THAT's why it feels like I've only just hit halfway. Genius! So genius that, even if it's not true, which it very probably isn't, I'm going to run with it anyway. Any lie to keep the writing going, after all.