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I’m finishing up the first draft of my fourth Duffy book. I had written about 220 pages and then put it aside to write a stand alone. i thought it would be easy to just pick up where I left off.

It wasn’t, in fact, it sucked.

A lot.

Now, however, I’ve put together a couple of weeks of steady work and it’s coming alive and writing itself again.

What happened?

It wasn’t letting it breathe, taking a break or some sort of end to writer’s block.

It was ass-on-chair-fingers-on-keyboards. In other words I wrote.

I wrote when i didn’t want to. I wrote sections that I thought were bad. I wrote stuff that i know I’ll have to change. I guessed at plot points and I straightened out some problems.

I started at the beginning and fixed characters, got rid of others and made sure I got all their names straight. It was tedious.

But I could feel the momentum build and that magic that happens when you write where the story takes on a life of its own.

Magic that happens when you do a shitload of work.