I get up early so I can get a little writing in before work. And I work early, so, that means I’m up early. I rolled out of bed–no alarm needed–around 3 o’clock this morning. And that was after common sense and discipline informed me that waking up at 2 would just be overkill.

I’m working on revising the tail end of my novel. Two more months… I hope… and I’ll be done. Or done-ish. Or… at the very least, going back over the beginning to pull out a few loose ends that never went anywhere.

My creative mind does not feel like 2 in the morning is ridiculously early. I just think that if I get up at 2 one day, it’ll probably be 1:30 the next, and so on. Makes it difficult to maintain a normal schedule with normal human beings. (Don’t get me wrong. I like normal human beings. I’m just… not one.) On the other hand, my rational mind can’t wrap itself around the idea that sleeping in til 7 is like someone who usually gets up at 7 sleeping in until noon.

So, we have the general excitement of let’s get up and do something. Make something. Finish something.

So, I woke up.

And I’m writing a blog post.

Because I have now stared at a blank piece of paper long enough, and I’m not exactly sure how what I’ve written connects up with all of the rest of the story.

Right now, the chunks I’m revising… well, they’re all middles. I have to get to the middle, and then connect the middle to the beginning, and in some cases, add an ending.

But I’m making wake up at 2 in the morning progress.

And I’m more excited about the process than I have been in a long time.

So, back to staring at that blank piece of paper.