No matter how psyched I am about a novel, no matter how easy the words are flowing to start with, there invariably comes a point–usually anywhere from 1/4 to, oh, let’s say 5/8ths of the way in–where it suddenly get a lot harder. I’ve done enough that I no longer have the "new cool" enthusiasm to keep me going, and it becomes a trudge to reach the end.
Guess what I just hit on the work in progress? Go on, guess. I’ll wait.
Yeah, I’ll work through it. I always do. But it’s always more fun when it’s, well, more fun.