I’m at that stage. The one where you’re all up in your own face, shoving yourself against walls to get the truth out, shouting, Think you can do it? Really? Really, can you do it? SHOW ME.
Or maybe I am the only writer who shoves herself up against walls as some kind of masochistic motivational ritual.
Anyway, can I do it?
Can I really?
I went to bed assured and determined—my Twitter relapse last night only worked to harden my resolve. But I woke up scared.
Then I remembered this surprise boost of confidence I got this week when I heard an important someone saying something amazing about me and I thought, He thinks I can do it. And I thought, E thinks I can do it. And my mom thinks I can do it. And my baby sister, who is a great inspiration for the novel, thinks I can do it. And do you think I can do it, do you?
January 4 is mere days away. Back to it.