Other times it feels impossible and I may as well just eat some cake or go take a nap or hide.
And then there are the moments when the book feels like confetti: like lots of fun bits, but not one cohesive thing, and kind of a mess all over the floor. And some doubt in my mind that this was a good idea.
Some days, like today for example, are a quick-swirling rotation of all these.
And so it goes.