Today was encouraging. While I'd like to say that I totally ignored the world and wrote until I could no longer feel my fingers, I didn't. However, I was productive for the roughly three hours that I spent glued to my computer chair.
It doesn't seem terribly productive by the numbers, but trust me. I now have my wheels on the road and am committed to following it wherever it leads me. As my critique partner the Magazinista told me earlier today, "You have to kick your inner editor out on the front lawn and let her cry." (It's easy to give advice when you've got 10,000 words in the bank.) But that's what I did.
I booted the nagging witch, and I found my groove.
Her backseat driver style won't keep this novel from being written. No amount of weeping will make me let her back in this car. She can wail like a banshee. She's not getting her grubby little paws on my deathless prose, at least not until December 1.