Something had to give.

I'm just more comfortable with myself when I have a writing project going.  I'm not sure why.  I focus less on whether my books are selling, or when my books are going to be released, or if they are going to be accepted by a publisher.

Instead, my subconscious is involved in story.  My conscious thoughts are, "How can I improve this?  What does it need?  Where do I go from here?"

Yesterday, I was struggling with the first two chapters, instead of writing new material.  But at the end of the day I think I fixed the problems and now I can move on.

The second chapter of Tuskers III didn't make any sense, timing wise, with what I'd done in Tuskers II.

But it was Tuskers II that was wrong, I decided, so I worked all day on making the two books consistent with each other.

I really like my solution.  It doesn't wrap things up quite as much in II, but carries the story on into III. I have enough of a climax to satisfy the reader, I think, but this makes the story flow right into the next book.

I've decided I need a slight recap of what happened in books I and II, but as soon as I've done that today, I can move on. 

I also decided that the amount of time I was giving myself to write III was too severe, and I loosened that up.  Rescheduled.  Back to my very comfortable 2000 words a day.  (Which is still a lot.)

Tuskers I was a fluke.  I'll probably never write a book that fast ever again.

Meanwhile, it was mid-afternoon by the time this was done, not enough time to both go for a long walk (2 or 3 hours) and also sort books at Linda's store (1 or 2 hours).  I made a commitment to Linda to sort books (in exchange for her taking more books in) so I did that, and just took more time walking around filing than normal.  Walked maybe a couple miles that way.

I hated to break the string of walks, but something had to give.

I arranged to have today off from work, but I realized that I still need to go in for a couple of hours to do chores, so one of my new habits may go out the window today too.  Linda is sick, so I'll probably go for a walk instead of sorting.

Walking is very conducive to writing, by the way.  It really seems to stir the contents of my subconscious somehow. 

I feel very secure in my writing right now.  I like what's coming out of my brain.