Done with the first chapter of Part Two (of three parts.) I actually worked in Paris. Worked in a shadowy high-ceilinged room in an apartment that was a gift from Louis-Napoleon, Emperor of the French, to one of his mistresses (who must have had a taste for gilded everything). Worked while there were museums to see and neighborhoods to explore and boudin noir to eat all around me. Which is not, of course, to say that I didn't get in a good bit of Titian, Montmartre and boudin on the side.
The problem, however, is pace. A novel can not be written a chapter a month. Can't. So something more is going to have to give. But what? When I wake up at 3 a.m. and work until 6 I am a wreck at work by 2 p.m. Drowsing at the table in the writer's room, dozing during casting sessions. It's wrong. It's embarrassing. It sets a bad example for the baby writers on the staff and it looks bad to the powers above me. I can fight it by getting up and pacing around and forcing my eyes open. But losing sleep is not the answer. So what, then? What? Weekends are good, but I need more.
How am I going to do this?
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