First, this: the overwhelming relief, gratitude, grace, peace, and fire. Can still do this. After three years of not doing.
Second: The novel's world sweeps you up. You take it on and it circles you. Steals the idle moments. Seeps into dreams and dream-like things. Becomes you.
Third: 400 pages in 24 weeks is 16 pages a week. Writing 5 days a week, that's 3.25 pages a day. Roughly 900 words a day. The numbers keep me focused.
Fourth: No time to practice. You sharpen the knife while you're cutting. It's the only way.
Fifth: I am getting better at blocks of time to do. I waste so much time.
Sixth: I no longer believe in or need many things: muse, writing group (smaller, one on one, so much more effective now), "being a writer" social events, and, well things.
Seventh: Simple is best. Clutter is the enemy.
Eighth: The muchness of this story invigorates me.
Nine: Social media and surfing are not writing. Research is
Ten: It seems so obvious, but can be so elusive: The act of writing is the only thing.