It wasn't faith

I've never had faith that I could finish this book.   That's actually been one of my biggest obstacles to finishing.  Kind of like punching yourself in the crotch.

But this weekend for the first time ever, I started to believe I might actually finish.   I can taste it... though I have tons more to write and re-write I am creeping up on the final page.  When I write that final page, I have to go back and fill in some scenes I skipped over and then I can start re-writes. 

I had been hoping that a better ending would come to me as I approached the end of the book.  One hasn't, though my basic idea has gotten a bit refined and I might be able to build up more support when I re-write so that when the reader gets there it will feel right. 

My brain has had to go to more extreme measures to try to distract me from working on the book.  It's most cunning plan to date; it's started to give me some ideas for book 2.  I've noted them down and haven't been able to help but think about the theme of that book and where Nick will be at the beginning and end of it.  

And then it happened.  I thought of a truly kick-ass killer ending.  Unfortunately, this seriously tasty idea can only be the ending of book 2 (or possibly later). 

I really think book 2 will not take as long to write as this one is taking.   Of course, this creative flow concerning it may actually dry up fast when that becomes the novel I am supposed to be focusing on.   I'm no genius, but my brain is freaking Hannibal Lector when it comes to distracting me.   Currently though, I'm winning.  I believe I will finish this book and write another.   A massive change in fortunes from last year.