Realistically, I'm probably no more than three-five chapters from the end. I can feel the shape of it up ahead of me (although I am also itchily aware that there is still an issue with the last-but-one twins' chapter, which needs to be fixed first). It becomes possible that I may emerge before the end of this year without Grass King hanging on.
And then, and then... The sekrit projekt calls with its siren. There's a story beginning that I want to explore. There's that persistent image of red rock pillars and forges and sieges and heat... I may be going to have to start believing in writer-self seriously.