92,423 words and the first draft of 'Finishing Kick' is done. Finito! I celebrated with a glass of wine last night and a couple of hours of mindless television. This morning, still slightly brain-dead from the marathon writing session, I am starting to do the first re-write to fix problems I know are in the first draft. I only have a couple of hours since the real job will be calling soon and I can't work this evening on the first draft because I will be working then too. Long day....
I expect the edit process to flow pretty smoothly at least until I get results back from my beta readers. Once I get feedback from others, we'll see how thin-skinned I can be and defensive over my work.
Which is foolish, of course. Writing gives you the opportunity to aim for perfection while you blunder through life. You can revise and rewriting and refine until the pitch is exactly what you need, each word of the story does its own work and the reader gets to live a different life.
Meanwhile, back on the farm, I still have some metaphorical chickens that come home to roost. I don't get to airbrush my mistakes, tweak the fabric of life until it's just so. Life is much messier and many of the events that knock me sideways are beyond my control.
So, I focus on what I can control and then I call a 'do-over.' Not a revise and rewrite since I don't have that level of control but a dust my pants off and try again attitude and aim for a better results the next time.
Life doesn't give you an edit function. It's a first draft written every day.
You do get to write the ending though - unless you step in front of a bus. Then all bets are off and you might not get a chance for a 'do-over.'