Last week, I had lunch with my adored agent and she asked what was ready to be shown, and I had a revelation. If I told her I would have something to her by, say June, then I'd really have to work hard. I'd have to produce. No more sitting on one sentence for weeks. "I'll have a few chapters to show you by June," I said.
So, after being weak with nerves and nauseous (Could I do this? Was I insane? Wouldn't it be better to just hold on tight to the pages I have rather than risk failure?) I set to work. I've been putting in ten hour days, but I have two chapters and 40 pages that don't make me want to flay my own skin off. I have a third chapter brewing. I feel feverish with excitement, manic with drive, and so, so happy to be writing. And even better, if this does sell on a partial, than I'll have another deadline for the full ms. And to me, well that's just bliss.