Last night after writing group, a friend and I discussed the need for a balance, especially when one is juggling a day job, writing, and a social life.

“I’m going to finish Nethermore,” I said. “Then I’m going to write another book, and I’ll write ten books if that’s what it takes to get just one of them published.”

“But do you want to keep up this crazy writing pace for ten years?” he asked. “You’ve learned how to begin a book and get through a big chunk of it. But now you need to learn how to balance writing with real life.”

I thought about it. I’m just at the beginning of a road that could take ten years or more to get where I want to be. To keep up the pace of writing three and four thousand words a night would do a number of things. It would wear me down. It would keep me from being social. It would take its toll on the quality of my writing and plotting as I try to rush through things just to finish the book.

In short, the break-neck pace would ruin my life. Or at least take its toll on my sanity. Writing a book as big as Nethermore is a big job—and cramming that job into a short amount of time just because of some arbitrary deadline I set for myself was unrealistic.

I’m looking for balance. Rather than quantity in a short amount of time, I’m going to strive for consistency. A thousand words a night should be a good pace. That’s about an hour for me, and it allows me time to think and plot and write instead of being focused on word count alone.

I want this book to be good, not just done.

So those of you who have been looking forward to throwing rotten fruit at me on August 1st are still welcome to do so. But I’ve achieved a huge part of my goal by figuring out how to fit writing into my life.

In all honesty, the fruit should have been thrown when I made the unrealistic goal, not when I failed to meet it.

—”Stewart!”