Christmas is coming, friends, so I am beginning to panic. No, not about decorations or food or family negotiations or Legos or books or clothing sizes or any of that stuff. It’s about the book.

For many Christmases in a row now, I have given T. and Syd books (although last year Syd graduated to family cookbook to which I need to add pages this year). When they were little, the kids got books that were short stories with lots of collage pictures. Two years ago, I wrote a chapter book for T., the one I’ve since revised and want to find an agent to sell. This year he wants a sequel.

Twenty thousand words between me and Christmas. If I don’t freak out too much and stick to 500 or so words a day, I will be done in time to do some revision and figure out a better way to bind the book than I did last time around. I don’t have to invent new characters and I have a rough idea of how the story is going to work. It’s going to be all right, I hope.

But I need help. Hold me accountable. Ask me if I’ve done my words for the day (today, nope, not yet). Remind me how many days are left. Offer to scribble next to me for an hour in a coffee shop. Tell me to keep breathing. Please.

Current word-count on the project: 3216.