The home straight

I hit the 118 page mark of Truck Me today and have begun what appears to be the denouement of the tale. As with every novel I have ever written (the possible exception being a fantasy book I penned five years ago) I began to rush it, a wild steed heading for home ... but this time I caught myself. If I'm going to write it, I might as well write it properly. If revisions on Ghost Kiss are finished at the end of July instead of the end of June, so what? The publishing world moves with painful slowness anyway, a month here or there isn't going to matter.

Patience is a virtue ... one that I'm trying to learn. Not with the people who block escalators or don't drive off when the light turns green, but with the things that need and deserve it.