On the edge of the cliff now, and it’s too late to do anything but wait for the clock to tick down to midnight. Two days off from the day job, and two more days of weekend, and I’ve set myself a truly outrageous challenge: 50,000 words in four days.
It’s crazy. I’m not going to make it.
It’s crazy and exhilarating and I am unprepared–except with a checklist, and a rough arc, and about six hundred pages of research.
I’ve been hanging out with the characters off and on since I was ten.
I’m going to step back two thousand years and run the locomotive of history onto a different set of tracks with a little help with some WTF-Physics and a whole lot of epic. I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning in the palace at Alexandria as an eighteen-year-old who’s just stepped into the shoes of divine queenship, having apprenticed for the role since age fourteen, in a family where sibling rivalry regularly runs to murder.
I’m going to imagine it. I’m going to Go There. Never mind if I reach the station by Sunday night, it’s going to be a wild ride.