Total words: 100,361.
Reason for stopping: I can no longer convince my eyes to focus, which means stopping time.
Music: lots of country and goth.
The cats: Lilly, in a loaf on the bed; Alice, in a loaf on the floor; Thomas, prowling around the hall.
As I work, I am slowly—very slowly, especially for me—dealing with the edits from my Machete Squad. The fact that I'm within 10,000 words of the projected end of the book means that I will soon be able to take a day and process the remaining edits, which will be nice. I really want to get the first draft out of the way, so that we can bend to the more difficult job of beating said first draft into something resembling shape.
This last month has been absolutely grueling. Since Blackout ran so far over, I have been forcing myself to make word count every day, even when I have edits to crunch, because I need those words to be on the page where they can be corrected more than I need to have the space to move at my usual pace. Once I finish draft one, things can return to something a little closer to normal. I can see some of the holes that currently exist in the book, the places where I'm going to need to build some things up and tear other things down. Now all I need to do is get there.
I need a nap. Goodnight, moon.