...and it arrived over a large flat white and a rhubarb friand this morning at one of my favourite Dunedin cafes, the aptly named Rhubarb.
I've been getting rather anxious, waiting for the aha's arrival. I've been hammering away at Containment for quite some time now, but something was lacking. My deadline was getting scarily close and I have to admit to a mild to moderate amount of panic happening. But I wasn't completely freaked out because when I was writing Overkill, the aha moment didn't come until the 6th draft. Yes folks, one of the acts of faith of a writer, I kept on working even though it didn't all quite tie in, then heaved a sigh of relief when I discovered the tiny shred of information that made it all slot into place and everything make perfect sense.
So my freakoutometer has slidden below critical, and I feel I have the connections that will make it all gel together. Writing is often about dogged determintaion, and Containment has been an example of that. There have been times when I'd wanted to toss the whole bloddy thing away and start again, but then I thought, no, the bits of the skeleton I had were good, but I guess it was like one of those archaeological digs where you're not quite sure what you've got till all the bones turn up.
The bones turned up with a Rhubarb Friand and a damn fine coffee.