Close to the end of what, you might ask? Depending on the day, it could be close to the end of my rope, but in this particular case, I'm referring to the end of my work in progress, Taken, featuring Frankie Post.
One of my biggest problems--and also one of my biggest strengths--is my imagination. It's great, because, well, it's hard to be a writer if you don't have any imagination. But it sucks, because, well, my brain will flash forward way faster than it should. So maybe that's ADD combined with imagination.
I tend to get super impatient around the halfway to three quarter mark of a work. I mean, like dancing with ants in my pants impatient. I can see how things are supposed to go--dialogue, specific scenes, everything on how to get from point A to point B. I just can't type it fast enough, not and not risk screwing up the first draft so much it'd take forever and five days to fix it. A rough first draft is one thing. A disaster of a first draft is another. Which is exactly what I would end up with if I typed as fast as I wanted to.
So, even though I want to sit down after dinner (hey, nutrition is important) and bang out a good four to five thousand words, I'll limit myself to around two or three thousand. Because I'd rather get it close to right the first time, than so far off I won't even recognize what the hell I wrote when it finishes edits.
So maybe I am close to the end of my rope. But at least it will be well constructed.