Late last week, I finished the next draft of the novel I've been working on for almost two years. I've lost count as to which number this is, but I know that it's the third one in that time frame. As I read through it, checking for clerical errors and continuity issues, I'm encountering something I haven't felt in a long time...joy. Typically by this point, a read-through pains me. I get to the point where I can't stand a single word. This time is different. I genuinely enjoy reliving each moment of this story. Whether that is a good sign or not, time will tell. For now though, I'll take it.
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