It is a glorious feeling, writing "The End" (I will spare you the all caps and the exclamation marks) after a month and some of intensive writing. Of course, the piece is not finished, but the first draft of it is. I'm tickled pink. I thought I would be this self-satisfied on the 30th, after successfully completing the target 50k words for NanoRhino, but that feeling was, if I could sum it up in a word, meh. It took three more days and 6k of writing, and I finally got that full frog feeling. Now what? Finish the rewrite of last year's book? Play that damned fiddle tune in tune for my animation ? Finish the meandering and malingering book that I've been working on for a couple of years? Write that new one that I'd laid out, planning to use it for this year's November folly, but changed my mind at the last minute? Paint in every spare second? Meditate? A lot? Shockingly, one thing I will not be doing is catching up on all of the Doctor W