Yup. I’m not going to make it. My self-imposed deadline to finish the novel I’m working on is March 31. It is now March 27. It just ain’t gonna happen, boys and girls. I don’t know how many words I have to go to finish the story. If I try to extrapolate from what I’ve done so far I’d guess 30,000 to 40,000. I don’t think I can get that in the four days I have left.
Does that bother me? No. Or more accurately it does bother me but I’m going to ignore the part of me that is bothered. If I listen to that part I’ll just get discouraged and disheartened.
Forget about it guy! Just keep writing! It’s not like I haven’t been working, it’s just been an issue of output. So no reason to go gnashing your teeth and all that. You’re already crazy to think you can write a whole freakin book; so why stop now? Let this be the spur in your flank to keep going. That’s the part I listen to. Besides, I’ll get that book finished by the end of April. I’m utterly certain.