Where's the love?

Writing Commune has been a loveless exercise this past week. I've had flat patches in every other novel I've written, but I think its extended length (I've just begun page 120 with the finale still many pages off) and some burnout from a busy year have worked together to muck with my motivation and confidence. It's tempting to take some time off ... but I know that would spell the end of the project and waste 80,000 words, most of them pretty good (I hope). So I've put my head down and started to grind the motherfucker out - 1,000 or 500 words at a time. I'm hoping the flow will pick up again when the end seems a bit nearer.

One good thing has come out of this teeth-grinding mess - a decent ending. Now I just have to get there...