Until the next time.
Given that this novel is so different to my other efforts, these experiences feel new to me, but looking back, I seem to remember (with my complexly plotted sci-fi sagas) writing myself into corners quite often and having to invent my way out. While that was a matter of creative thinking, my current novel runs aground on emotion. Every nuance, every breath, every faintly meant meaning, every withheld thought - they have to be so carefully constructed that it's not surprising I'm starting to feel obsessed, exhausted (lack of sleep does that) and disconnected from the universe in general.
But I have reached the halfway point of my novel. It may not be the physical halfway point as I don't know exactly how long this novel is going to be precisely (does anyone ever?) but it is at the very least the point of no return for the characters and changes everything.
I would celebrate if I wasn't feeling so tired ...